


Heat

by little_whittles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_whittles/pseuds/little_whittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Holy shit, you’re in heat!” Stiles shouted, the light bulb going off and bringing with it endless amusement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Favor

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, okay, I was trying to EDIT this, and AO3 DELETED it. So this is an older story. Sorry about it going away. Super sorry if you had subscribed, and I hope you find it again.
> 
> Anyway, tried and true werewolf in heat story. Dub con in this chapter.

“Yo, Derek! You were supposed to meet Scott and I so we could-” Stiles stopped abruptly. Derek was slumped in the corner of the ruined waste that used to be a parlor, probably. It looked like it had been a fancy room. Had Derek’s family been fancy? Wait, off track. Why was Derek slumped? Usually he was more of a lurer, or a stalker, not a slumper. “You okay, man?”

Derek didn’t answer. Stiles might have honestly thought he was dead, if it wasn’t for the heaving of his body with every labored breath. Maybe he’d been shot again? Stiles was NOT cutting off his arm, this was NOT happening again. Stiles rolled his eyes and crossed to where Derek was sitting.

“Hey, Derek. Hello? What the hell is going on?” 

Derek looked up at him, his face pained and pale.

“Shit. You were shot again, weren’t you?”

Derek shook his head, eyes lowering from Stiles’ face, all the way down to his shoes, then back up.

“Okay, I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong with you,” Stiles tried, exasperated.

Derek sighed heavily, but not out of disdain as usual, out of effort. “It’s nothing.”

“Okay, that is CLEARLY a load of crap, since you look god awful.”

Derek felt well enough to glare, apparently, but it wasn’t particularly menacing this time. And that made Stiles worry even more.

“Derek, come on, you look like you’re going to die here-”

“It won’t KILL me-” Derek stressed.

“But it IS something, not nothing then.”

Derek shut his eyes before replying, “It just... happens sometimes. To wolves. It’s a... sort of life cycle-”

“Holy shit, you’re in heat!” Stiles shouted, the light bulb going off and bringing with it endless amusement.

“I didn’t say-”

“But that IS what it is, isn’t it?”

Derek looked murderous, but also nauseated. He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay, well, there’s gotta be a fix for this, right? I mean... wait, why isn’t Scott ever in heat?”

Derek wiped a thick layer of sweat from his face. “Because he has Allison. Whenever we wants.”

“And you’re trying to tell me you couldn’t have anyone you wanted all the time? I call MAJOR bullshit. I mean, not that you need the ego boost, but you’re not exactly hard on the eyes or whatever...”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Derek took a pained swallow. “Werewolves have to mate with someone they’re connected to.”

“Like, emotionally?”

Derek was almost panting, “Yes.”

“Okay, how about this? We take you out, maybe a bar or a nice club, we find you a lady you have something in common with-”

“No.”

“What about - what about Erica? You have a connection with-”

“NO!” Derek roared, wincing after. “It can’t be my pack. Listen, you want to help? You lock me in those,” Derek said, nodding his head toward a set of shackles hanging from the wall.

“Whoa,” Stiles replied. “Okay, either you’re really kinky, or-”

“They’re for training the betas on a full moon, Stiles,” Derek growled, glaring.

Stiles knelt next to Derek, easing his way under his arm and bracing him on his shoulder. Derek was bigger than him, by a lot, so it was tough going. He managed to get him to the wall, and Derek slid down to the floor.

“Is this really gonna help?” Stiles pulled the key from one of the open cuffs, clamped it on Derek’s wrist, and locked it.

“No. But it will keep people safe,” Derek huffed.

“Okay, but it won’t do anything to actually help you?” Stiles locked the other cuff down.

Derek shook his head. “There is no helping me.”

“So,” Stiles crouched in front of him, “how long does this last?”

“Couple more days,” Derek mumbled.

“How long have you already-”

“Please go, Stiles.”

“No, but-”

“Just go!” Derek thundered, the wolf coming through in his voice, rattling the walls of the burnt out building. Stiles fell back, his ass hitting the ground hard, and he scrambled farther away until he could push upright. He ran out into the moonlight, hopping in the Jeep and pealing out of the woods.

~

Derek looked worse the next day, if that was possible. He was dripping sweat and possibly actually unconscious. Stiles nudged his foot with his sneaker.

“Derek. Hey.” Nothing. Stiles hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night, and all day ay school; a werewolf in heat. How... bizarre. Was it like the Vulcan mating time of Pon Farr? No, cuz Scott wanted to mate ALL THE TIME. Maybe it was because Scott was bitten, and Derek was born this way? He nudged Derek again, and his eyes finally fluttered open.

“What... are you doing here, Stiles? I thought I told you to go?” His voice sounded raw, hoarse. Maybe he’d been howling all night to attract a mate. Did werewolves do that? Maybe he’d been screaming.

“That was, like, over twelve hours ago.” Stiles had left right after to school to come... check on Derek? No, this was a fascination with nature, he wasn’t worried about Derek. Derek had been stabbed through the stomach by the Alpha, Derek had survived the magic bullet. He was fine. This was natural, this was nothing.

“You... you shouldn’t be here,” Derek spat out, arms dangling just above his head, body leaning forward, not supporting itself.

Stiles rolled his eyes and dropped his backpack to the floor, pulling out the white plastic grocery bag from the gas station he’d stopped at. “I hope you like ham and cheese.”

“Wh-what?”

“A sandwich. I thought you might get hungry. Growing wolves need to eat.” Stiles unwrapped it from the plastic and forced it into Derek’s open palm.

Derek held the hoagie weakly, nearly dropping it. When he raised his head, his arm was just out of reach of his mouth.

“Oh Jesus, you have GOT to be kidding me,” Stiles muttered, taking the sandwich back. “Ready?”

“For?”

Stiles pressed the food right to Derek’s lips, a little more forcefully than necessary. “Eat.”

“I don’t need to be fed,” Derek snarled. Stiles quirked an eyebrow and Derek sighed, defeated, and took a bite. He chewed slowly under Stiles’ watch, and after he swallowed Stiles put the sandwich to his mouth again.

They did this in silence, finally the whole sandwich gone, then Stiles reached back into the bag for a bottle of water. He twisted it open and brought it to Derek’s lips.

He drank the water greedily and gratefully, some of it dribbling down his chin, wetting his shirt. Stiles momentarily thought of wiping his face, and then thought about having his fingers chewed off and figured it’d dry easy enough.

“Better?”

Derek nodded. He was still shining with sweat, still pale and loose limbed, but he held his head up a little more.

Stiles felt awkward now, not having anything to do, just standing there, staring at Derek. “Well, I should get home... um. You gonna be okay?”

Derek furrowed his brow and nodded curtly.

“Okay... maybe tomorrow it’ll be better,” Stiles tried. Derek bowed his head forward and shrugged a little. And, it seemed, he drifted into unconsciousness. Good time to make an exit, Stiles thought, and he crept out carefully across squeaky floor boards.

~

Stiles couldn’t make it to Derek’s right after school the next day; he had lacrosse practice, and Scott asking him why he smelled like Derek, and his dad didn’t head to work until nine. He tried to wait patiently, and barely made it, waiting just long enough for his dad’s cruiser to turn off their street.

He’d brought more food this time, a lot more, in case that helped. And snuck some of his dad’s whisky, if that might work better.

When Stiles got there, Derek was on his feet and looking strong. This was promising. Maybe it was all over and-

Derek howled at Stiles when he got closer, making Stiles stumble back and almost lose his footing.

“Jesus, Derek-”

Derek growled, eyes red and teeth pointed. His muscles strained against the shackles.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles muttered. “Derek, it’s me, Stiles.”

Derek roared, struggling to free himself, trying to charge Stiles. This, this was not ideal. This was not good, so not good. Stiles did the only very stupid thing he could think of. 

He punched Derek in the face.

Derek’s head jerked to the side, saliva flinging onto the floor. “What the HELL, Stiles?

“Oh thank god. Dude, you totally wolfed out!”

“What?” Derek’s tongue slid over his incisors. “Shit. You gotta go.”

“Leaving you like this?”

“You gotta...” Derek fell to his knees, strength draining out of him.

“No, no we can get through this. Now, I brought more food... some whisky...”

“That won’t HELP, Stiles.” The frustration was palpable, thick and menacing.

“Okay, I’ve got an idea.”

“No.”

“Come on, you haven’t - you haven’t even heard it yet.” Stiles was pretty sure it was his worst idea ever. Not only would Derek hate it, Stiles would hate it, and it would just be... it was a bad idea. But it was the only one he had.

“Whatever it is-”

“Not up to you, you’re the guy chained to the wall,” Stiles pushed on. He got to his knees and slowly crawled over, trying to maintain some distance from Derek’s teeth. He took a deep breath, and grabbed Derek’s fly.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Derek grated out. And if he hadn’t been restrained, Stiles would have been out the door and down the road by now. But he didn’t answer, just pulled the button loose of it’s hole. “Stiles, I’m warning you...”

And for maybe one of the first times in his life, Stiles had nothing to say. He pulled Derek’s zip down at arm’s length, then got just close enough to yank his jeans and underwear down his thighs. Derek’s cock sprang free, hard, thick. Wet at the tip. Jesus.

“Jesus.”

“Fucking. Back. Off!” Derek snarled, but his body betrayed him, his hips jutting forward. “Please.” The last word was so pitiful, Stiles almost obeyed him. Almost.

Stiles spit in his hand a few times and reached forward, still leaning his body back as best he could. He closed his fist around Derek’s cock. Derek hissed, thrusting forward. His face was torn between pleasure and humiliation.

“Please,” he said again, but Stiles knew this please wasn’t ‘please stop.’ It was ‘please, don’t stop’ and Stiles wouldn’t. This had to be done and he was doing it and then it would be all over and things could go back to normal. Or as normal as they got in Beacon Hills.

Stiles moved his hand tentatively at first, getting the feel of the angle and of someone else’s dick, but then moved quickly. This wasn’t a show, wasn’t a tease. This was a cure and it was getting done efficiently. This wasn’t for fun.

Stiles ignored the flutter in his belly, and the heat in his groin. Sure, maybe this was the first time he’d touched another human sexually. But this was no big deal. No.

His fist was fast and tight and it took less than two minutes. Probably less than one, Derek was so on edge, so needy. He came hot over Stiles’ fingers, in long ribbons, more cum than Stiles had ever seen. He kept pulsing and rocking into his palm, whimpering and gasping.

Once the tremors had abated, Stiles drew his hand away slowly. This apparently brought Derek back from whatever or wherever he’d been, and his focus was sharp, digging into Stiles.

Neither of them spoke. Stiles stood, pulled off his flannel, and wiped his hand. He thought about cleaning Derek up, and then he thought it might lead to his ultimate demise, so he skipped it. He was under Derek’s heated gaze as he dug the key out of his jeans pocket, unlocking both cuffs and then stepping a few yards back.

If Derek killed him right now, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Derek took long strides forward, wrenching Stiles’ flannel out of his grip and wiping himself clean. He threw the flannel to the ground, eyes never leaving Stiles’, then he did up his fly, grabbed a water bottle out of the bag Stiles brought, and walked up the stairs without a word.

~

“You are so jumpy lately!” Scott told him at lunch. The mere act of Scott setting down his tray had made Stiles bounce several inches off the bench.

“You know, werewolf central, you can never be too... alert,” Stiles said, glancing around quickly. “Have you seen Derek lately?”

“No... have YOU seen Derek lately?”

“What? No! Why would I have... anyway, whatever.”

“You are acting weird. Weirder than usual,” Scott observed, narrowing his eyes at Stiles.

“Lots of Adderall, you know. Late night studying.”

Scott nodded, clearly not interested anymore since Allison had joined them.

~

Stiles hadn’t gotten to play the game that night - of course. More bench warming, which was. Fine. It was... typical. At least his dad had been working and not there to witness... the nothing he had to show for it.

Stiles tossed his gear bag angrily in the corner of his room and slammed the door shut. He yanked off his jersey and turned to throw it in the hamper.

“Shit!”

Derek stood by his closet, arms folded across his chest.

“What the hell are you doing here? You can’t just-”

“You just let yourself in to my place,” Derek shot back. Oh goodie. He was his old self again.

“I was trying to save your life!”

“I wouldn’t have died,” Derek said, but he was quiet.

“Well, you LOOKED like you were dying. You’re welcome, by the way,” Stiles grumbled.

Derek was suddenly in his space, crowding him against the wall. “I didn’t ask you to do what you did. I would have been fine! And it was stupid of you, anyway!” he shouted.

Stiles shrunk back. “I don’t even want to TALK about what happened, like, ever, so we can just pretend-”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Stiles yelled.

“I can’t pretend... I can’t forget-”

“Why not? Is this another part of it? Is this some werewolf - oh shit, do I have to be like, your werewolf bride now or something? Because-”

“Shut up,” Derek gritted out, his forearm pressing against Stiles’ chest, pinning him to the wall. 

“And you said, you had to have an emotional connection! And we... Wait...” Stiles blinked for several seconds. “You said there had to be a connection for it to work...”

“I never said-”

“And it... worked.” Stiles turned his wide eyed gaze on Derek, something between fear, confusion, and realization.

“That’s not... I...” Derek moved away and Stiles slid a little ways down his wall, letting it support him for now. His legs were trembling. “I don’t like having any debts, okay? I just wanna... make this square.”

“That’s really not necessary, I mean. I only did it for - to help you! Because you were dying-”

“I wasn’t dying!”

“-you were sick! And you needed help and I helped you, that’s all it was.”

Derek moved back in his space again, pressing his nose into Stiles’ neck and inhaling deeply. He’d managed to pin Stiles’ wrists to the wall at his sides, so Stiles squirmed up, tried to get away.

“You’re lying,” Derek purred, sending a chill up Stiles’ spine.

“I’m not, I-”

“You’re heart is pounding. And you smell,” another deep inhale, “like-”

“Like?” Stiles interjected nervously.

“Want.”

“What?”

“You smell like desire, need, want,” Derek hissed in Stiles’ ear. It took all of Stiles’ remaining sanity and strength so keep his arms still, to keep his hips against the wall.

Derek forced his knee between Stiles’ thighs, and pressed up into his groin. And okay, Stiles’ body was a traitor, straining against his fly.

Derek smirked and huffed into Stiles’ neck. “I can feel you.”

“Fuck you,” Stiles barked back. Derek grinned wider, rubbing his leg against Stiles.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Stop.”

“To have me... inside you.” It wasn’t even sexy when he said it. It was scary, a threat. The upper hand, and he was waving it right in Stiles’ face.

“I did what I did to help you! Why are you doing this to me?” Stiles shouted, feeling humiliated and exposed. Derek released his wrists and took a few steps back, frowning. “So our emotional connection is this, huh? Us, what, hating each other?”

“Stiles, I don’t hate-”

“But you just love to be the the big man, don’t you? Gotta have the advantage, can’t even just say thank you when I... I took care of your ass for three days-”

Derek kissed him, and it was sudden and gentle. Stiles thought kissing Derek (he’d thought about kissing Derek, okay, whatever, let’s just move past that) would be rough, aggressive, but it was... generous? Sweet? Derek cradled his face and he ran his thumbs over Stiles’ cheekbones.

“Um,” Stiles started, once they’d broken apart. Stiles was panting a little, and tried hard to steady himself. “What-”

“You were right, okay? You helped me out, and you didn’t have to. And it had to be you, because... because-”

“Emotional connection,” Stiles murmured. Derek stared at him for a long moment, then moved back ever so slightly.

“I was your first,” Derek said, almost plainly, with a hint of surprise.

“Well, no...”

Derek continued to set Stiles in his gaze, and Stiles’ skin flushed so red it was actually purple, and he wanted to crawl under a rock and die, and all of his inadequacies came bubbling back to the surface. Of course no one had ever slept with him. He wasn’t captain of the lacrosse team, or even on first line half the time. He couldn’t compete with Jackson, Scott, anyone. He was awkward and weird and who would have possibly slept with him, even touched him? And why was Derek Hale, who was not only out of HIS league but pretty much everyone else’s, even here? And sniffing him? And kissing him? Of course Derek had been his first. And how could he possibly have known that? Could a werewolf’s annoying boner sniffing sense of smell possibly detect virginity?

“Stiles,” Derek said softly.

“Fine, yes, okay? Jesus, is this National Humiliate Stiles Day? I got benched all night, Lydia doesn’t even know I’m alive, Scott leaves mid conversation to suck face with Allison, and now, Derek fucking Hale shows up. In my room. To just hit home the fact that I am a giant loser.” Stiles took a long breath, having pushed through that quickly.

Derek frowned at him.

“I don’t need your pity, okay? I get plenty elsewhere. Pathetic nothing-”

Derek kissed him again, knocking him back into the wall. This time is what Stiles had imagined; it was fierce and demanding and predatory. That made it a little scary, what with the werewolfiness and the fact that Derek was made of muscles and could crush Stiles or tear his throat out or-

And Derek’s mouth was on his neck, sucking, licking over very shallow dents from his teeth.

“Pl-please don’t kill me,” Stiles whimpered, frozen in place.

Derek pulled back enough to look at him, frowning again. “Do you seriously not get this? Still?”

“I don’t - know,” Stiles choked out. He was shaking all over.

“You think I’d hurt you? You still don’t trust me?”

“Should I?” Stiles sighed. Derek’s face had gone back to it’s normal grimace.

“Goodnight Stiles,” he said, and it had seemed odd and timid for Derek. Stiles watched questioningly as Derek slipped out his window and disappeared into the night.

~

“Why do you smell like Derek?”

“Holy Christ, screw you and your werewolf senses!” Stiles shouted in the locker room. It was been empty, but Scott glanced nervously around anyway.

“Things I’d like you not to shout,” Scott hissed.

“Fine. Fine. I’m sorry.”

“So... the Derek smell...”

“He came by my house last night.”

“Looking for me?” Scott asked.

“Not everything is about you, Scott. For once, can you just - is that a concept you can grasp?” Stiles spat.

Scott raised one eyebrow. “Is it your time of the month or something?”

Stiles laughed. He laughed until it got a bit hysterical. Ha. Time of the month. In heat. Man, he had no idea.

“What the hell is up with you lately?” Scott sat beside him on the bench.

Stiles pulled off his cleats and tossed them in his locker. “Nothing. As usual.”

“You’re awfully moody.”

“And your awfully nosey!” Stiles laced up his sneakers as angrily as a person could.

“Did Derek do something to you?” Scott asked suspiciously.

Stiles froze in place. “Um. What?”

“Did he, like, threaten you or hurt you or-”

“No! No, nothing. Nothing happened, he just came by to... menace me, as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary or...”

Scott narrowed his eyes at Stiles. “You’re lying.”

“Screw this!” Stiles proclaimed, storming out of the locker room, running down the hall to the exit. He was at the Jeep but Scott was already there. Of course. Wasn’t that just... typical.

“Stiles-”

“Just leave me alone, Scott! Everyone needs to just... back off!” Stiles yelled, settling into the driver’s seat and slamming the door. He peeled out of the parking lot without another word.

~

Stiles’ dad was in the kitchen when he got home, and the way Stiles had slammed the front door must have gotten his attention.

“Welcome home,” his dad said, cautiously.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Stiles shouted before he could even be asked.

“Okay. Need anything?”

Stiles sighed, feeling guilty for taking it out on his dad. “No, just... a little peace and quiet?”

“You got it. I’ll call you down for dinner.”

Stiles smiled weakly. “Thanks Dad.”

He marched up to his room, locking the door behind him. He didn’t even jump when he saw Derek sitting at his desk.

“Get out.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “I could still kill you, yanno. You might try being nice.”

“And you might try not being a stalker. And ya know what? I’m tired of these empty threats. Please, kill me already!” Stiles flopped down on his bed. “Put me out of my misery,” he mumbled into his pillow.

“I came here to apologize.”

That got Stiles’ attention. “Say what?”

Derek growled a little. “You heard me, don’t make me say it again.”

“No, I think you should-”

“Look, I’m sorry. Sorry you saw me... like that. Sorry you had to... sorry about last night. It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?” Stiles was a little surprised at the disappointment he felt.

Derek was frowning again, and he rolled the computer chair over to the bed. “No. I didn’t... I shouldn’t have assumed, and... you clearly didn’t - I just - mixed signals or something...”

He wasn’t making much sense anymore, but Stiles didn’t care, because he was shocked to hear - what was it? - regret? Did Derek feel... badly? He didn’t think that was a thing Derek did.

“You weren’t... totally wrong,” Stiles admitted shyly.

“I - what?”

“I mean, I’m a 16 year old boy! Any contact is gonna get me, yanno, up and running.”

“Of course. I mean. That’s what I mean, I shouldn’t have thought I-”

“Not that you wouldn’t-”

“- could have caused-”

“- because, I mean, look at you, but-”

“- you to react-”

“- I mean, you’re a real catch, despite the anger issues and the menacing and-”

“- to me the way I react to you-”

“- the severe trust issues - wait, what?”

“What?”

“What did you say?”

Derek cleared his throat. “When?”

“Just now, when you said-”

“- I said-”

“- the way you react to... to me?” Stiles sat up, brow furrowed.

Derek avoided his eyes, puffing out his chest. “I didn’t-”

“You JUST did,” Stiles interrupted. “How do you... react to me?”

“I’m pretty sure you were there,” Derek spat.

“You like, _like_ me?” Stiles asked. His eyes were wide, he was shocked.

“I’m not in high school, that’s not how-”

“You... want me, then. Is that how you’d put it?”

Derek rolled his eyes, then closed them. “Jesus, of course you’re going to make me feel-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence, because Stiles had pushed forward, pressing his mouth over Derek’s. Stiles’ heart was pounding so hard he thought he might break a rib, because either this was very, very right and awesome and would maybe end in naughty touching. Or he was very wrong and it would end in him having his neck broken. He didn’t move, just pressed a chaste kiss over Derek’s mouth for several seconds before he sat back.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you last night, idiot,” Derek huffed.

The corner of Stiles’ mouth tugged up. “Oh. I just thought-”

“I know what you thought,” Derek jumped in. “I know what you think, about yourself. That’s why you’re such an idiot. You underestimate yourself-”

“Well, it’s hard not to around tons of supernatural beings,” Stiles interjected, earning him a surly glare.

“You shouldn’t. I don’t.”

Stiles leaned in, thinking giving this kissing Derek thing another try was one of his better ideas.

“Stiles! Dinner!” his dad shouted from downstairs.

“Shit,” Stiles cursed. “You could stay, I’ll eat so fast and then-”

Derek chuckled. “Is your dad on night shift?”

“You already know he is, stalker.”

“I’m trying to be the good guy here, Stiles.”

“Oh!” Realization dawned on him. “Right. Maybe... you could come by. A little after nine.”

“Maybe I will,” Derek smirked, getting up and crossing to the window.

“And maybe you can use the front door?” Stiles tried.

Derek shrugged. “Maybe.”

Then he was gone.

~

Stiles’ dad raised a suspicious eyebrow when Stiles was seeing him off to work. From the porch.

“Any reason for the going away party?” he asked cynically.

“What?” Stiles squeaked. Like that didn’t make it obvious something was up. “No, no. Just. Want you to have a good night at work. And all that.”

His dad narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Well, I have homework, so... I’d better...” Stiles thumbed over his shoulder toward the stairs.

“Goodnight son. Don’t do anything... too stupid.” He looked fond, even through the words. Once the door closed between them, Stiles raced up to his room to tidy up a little, straightening the sheets and fluffing his bed pillows. Wait, did this mean he assumed Derek would be in his room? Did this mean... he was assuming he’d get lucky? A virgin no more, Stiles thought.

Maybe that was too optimistic. He jogged back down the stairs and into the living room, fixing the throw pillows on the couch and de-cluttering the coffee table.

Stiles watched the kitchen clock intensely, 9:00 o’clock just ticks away. Mere seconds, slowly clicking by. It came and went, and Stiles let out a breath. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was only 9:03, no reason to panic-

-the knock on the door actually made him slide off the kitchen chair he’d been perched on. “Ow,” he complained to no one in particular, scraping himself up as gracefully as he could. He managed a restrained pace, not wanting to seem too eager. He took a steadying breath and opened the door.

Derek stood there, looking as surly as ever, and for a minute Stiles thought this must be a joke. Scott would pop out of the bushes with Allison in tow, maybe even Lydia, and they’d have a good laugh at how stupid Stiles was. Thinking someone like Derek Hale could POSSIBLY ever be interested in-

“You gonna invite me in?” Derek mono toned.

“Are you, like, a vampire now?” Stiles shot back. Derek rolled his eyes and pushed past him. 

“Your dad’s gone?”

“Yeah. I mean, you already can tell that, can’t you?”

Derek nodded slightly. Stiles shut and locked the door behind them. “Can I get you... anything?” Stiles asked nervously. “Something to eat? Maybe something to drink? We have water, milk, juice... my dad has whisky - do werewolves drink? Scott drank once but I don’t know if he could get drunk or-”

Stiles’ back hit the wall. He’d been unaware that Derek had been closing in on him and he’d been backing away. Old habits die hard, he guessed, since he still felt that sense of alarm, the intimidation.

“Stiles, shut. Up,” Derek said.

“Shutting up, shutting up now. Well, I mean now. After this-”

Derek kissed him, and this was a more affective way to silence him, really. It was slow at first, mouths barely open, until Derek swiped his tongue against Stiles’ lips. Stiles moaned lowly and obliged, letting Derek lick his way into his mouth, over his teeth, against his tongue.

Stiles was making out. He’d never made out before. He’d kissed a girl once, in the 6th grade, on a dare. She’d said it was icky and he’d agreed, trying to save face. He accused her of giving him cooties all summer

This was hardly like that. Derek was tasting every inch of Stiles’ mouth he could, his stubble rubbing against Stiles’ jaw. His kissing got more frantic, his teeth knocking into Stiles’. He was gripping Stiles’ hips, pulling their pelvises flush, and Stiles groaned when he felt Derek’s cock hard against his.

Derek moved his grasp to Stiles’ wrist, pulling his hands up the wall and pinning them near his head. He was rutting against Stiles, rubbing them together, and Stiles was so hard and it felt so good.

Derek abandoned Stiles’ mouth and sucked at his neck, not long enough to leave a mark. He wasn’t stupid; Scott would see it, or the Sheriff, and then there’d have to be a lot of explaining and that would not be pleasant for anyone. But, Stiles thought, if he wanted to give him a hickey below the shirt line, that would be just fine. Something to remember this by, something to prove it happened, even if it was just to himself.

Derek was breathing heavily, thrusting up against Stiles, licking Stiles’ collar bone. His tongue traveled up, up Stiles’ neck, to his ear, and he tugged gently with his teeth on Stiles’ earlobe. Stiles shuddered and Derek traced his ear with his tongue. Stiles heard him gasp softly, right into the shell of his ear.

“We, we should stop-” Stiles tried.

“No,” Derek insisted, making a choked off sound. He moved his hips faster.

“Derek, I-”

“Yes,” Derek hissed. And Stiles came, jerking against Derek, wrists still pinned. It was hot and sticky and wet but it felt so, so good. Stiles couldn’t stop twitching forward, mouth hanging open, whispered gasps escaping him. Derek found his lips again and the kiss was sweet but not chaste.

Once Stiles felt like he could trust himself to speak, he breathlessly said, “Well, that was embarrassing.” He felt his skin prickle with flush, not just from the orgasm.

“Hot,” Derek answered monosyllabically.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t... I mean, you know it’s my... that I’ve never-”

Derek dropped to his knees suddenly, and Stiles stopped talking, staring down at him wide-eyed. Derek pressed his face into the wet fabric of Stiles’ jeans and inhaled. His hands grabbed onto Stiles’ hips.

“What-”

Stiles was cut short by Derek frantically ripping open his fly and pulling his sticky jeans and boxers down his thighs.

Then Derek licked him.

It took a lot of effort to stay up right, and Stiles moaned loudly, even surprising himself. Derek licked up Stiles’ thighs, over his hips. He mouthed at Stiles’ balls and then up to his belly.

He was licking Stiles clean, and Stiles cock bobbed heavily. And then Derek licked that, too.

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles huffed out, his legs shaking. “Derek, you don’t have to-”

Derek shoved Stiles’ hips against the wall and took him deep into his mouth, licking every inch of his dick. Stiles hadn’t really lost his erection, but it was now back in full force because Derek was blowing him, he was getting a fucking blow job. Saliva leaked from the corner of Derek’s mouth and he pulled Stiles into his mouth, grabbing his ass and forcing Stiles deeper.

Stiles’ dick bumped the back of Derek’s throat and Derek _growled_ around him, making Stiles whimper. He still had his hands against the wall, were Derek had pinned them, and he brought them down slowly, winding them into Derek’s hair.

Derek’s eyes flashed up to meet his and Stiles unintentionally thrust forward eagerly into Derek’s mouth. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Derek pulled off just enough to say,” Do it.” His breath ghosted over the wetness of Stiles’ cock.

“Do... do what?” Stiles asked shakily.

“Fuck my mouth,” Derek said, voice low.

“Oh my god, I don’t know if-”

He stopped talking when Derek pulled him forward, past his lips again. His hands were still in Derek’s hair and he gave a tentative tug. Derek moaned around him, pleased, so Stiles gripped his head and thrust forward.

Derek hummed around him in encouragement and Stiles got his rhythm, rocking forward again and again while Derek stayed still and pliable under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck I’m gonna come again, shit,” Stiles cried out, burying himself deep into Derek’s mouth, coming down his throat. And Derek was swallowing around him, licking him clean again as Stiles shook.

Stiles was panting heavily and he practically fell to the floor, his knees were so weak. He was kneeling facing Derek now, eye to eye. Derek’s lips were swollen and red and his eyes were dark.

“I should... have warned you more, maybe,” Stiles managed as he caught his breath.

“You should stop being to apologetic, maybe,” Derek shot back. Stiles glanced down and could see the definite bulge in Derek’s jeans, and then he felt like a real asshole. Two orgasms and poor Derek was still wanting, needing release.

Stiles was just as shaky this time as he had been that first time, with Derek chained to the wall. He reached out and opened Derek’s fly, then scooted closer and eased his pants and underwear down. His cock looked the same as it had then, flushed and swollen, leaking pre cum.

“What do you want me to do?” Stiles asked. Hand jobs he could handle, he had plenty of personal experience there. But he also wasn’t going to back down from something else. He really, REALLY wanted Derek to come.

“Whatever you want, and you don’t have to-”

Stiles silenced him this time, “I want to. I want you to come for me.” He felt almost as surprised as Derek looked at his boldness.

Derek smirked, clearly happy to be back to their usual dynamic. “Then suck me off,” he challenged.

Stiles nodded, trying to put on a brave face. Which was pointless, because Derek could hear his heart beat, could smell almost every emotion on him.

“Lie back,” Stiles commanded, and Derek arranged himself on the tile of the kitchen floor. Stiles yanked his pants lower and managed to settle between Derek’s thighs after tugging up his own pants.

He didn’t have a werewolf’s senses, but he felt like he could smell the arousal on Derek. He reached forward and gripped the base of Derek’s cock and Derek’s hips lifted toward him.

“A little needy, are we?”

“Some of us haven’t gotten off twice,” Derek gritted out.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Stiles admitted. He leaned over Derek’s hips and took a tentative swipe with his tongue. Derek shuddered and Stiles thought he could DEFINITELY do this if it meant seeing that again. Stiles licked from where his hand was gripping Derek to the tip, tasting the pre cum. It was salty and heady. Stiles continued to lick, different places and angles, and moved his tight fist up and then back.

“Please, please Stiles,” Derek moaned desperately. Stiles groaned lightly and closed his mouth over Derek.

He’d never given a blow job before, had only just had one for the first time. But he’d watched enough porn to know the basics: cover your teeth, don’t gag, lots of spit. He could do this. He rubbed Derek’s cock over the flat of his tongue while he bobbed his head slowly, sucking in his cheeks as he pulled away and moving his fist after his lips. He seemed to be doing something right, because Derek’s eyes were closed tightly and his hands were grasping Stiles’ shoulders.

“Stiles, fuck... yes. Don’t, don’t stop,” Derek warned, like that was an option. He wasn’t going to stop, didn’t want to. And it hadn’t been a threat, it had been desperate and needy and Stiles noticed Derek was trying very hard to keep his hips against the floor.

Stiles moved faster, and ran his free hand up Derek’s thigh, over his hip, gripping his side. “Gonna come, gonna come, shit, Stiles, I-” and Derek broke off with a shout, moaning loudly. His come flooded Stiles’ mouth and Stiles kept moving, swallowing, twisting his hand around Derek. His eyes flashed up and Derek was staring at him with heat and want and maybe even a little delirium, until he stopped twitching and his head fell back with a thump.

Stiles pulled away slowly and sat back on his heels. Derek was trying to catch his breath and there was a dark red flush across his throat and cheeks. Stiles wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, his lips numb and marked by his own teeth.

Derek sat up, Stiles still between his spread thighs, and pulled Stiles to him by the back of his neck. He pressed their mouths together and slid his tongue against Stiles’, whimpering when he tasted himself there.

“I hope... that was okay,” Stiles said awkwardly. Derek huffed a laugh across his lips.

“S’amazing,” Derek near slurred. He hadn’t let go of Stiles’ neck, and kept their foreheads pressed together.

“Do you want-” Stiles started, right as Derek was saying,” Can I stay a while?”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah. Yes. Dad won’t be home for a while. What did you wanna-”

But Derek cut him off with another soft kiss. He nudges Stiles back so he could pull his jeans up, then laced their fingers together. He smiled, something Stiles didn’t see often, and it was almost bashful. Derek led the way to Stiles’ room, keeping their fingers intertwined.

Derek closed the bedroom door behind them and tugged his shirt over his head. He slipped out of his jeans and then moved under Stiles’ sheets. He didn’t say anything, just raised his eyebrows at Stiles.

Stiles turned his back to Derek and pulled off his own t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, clearly exasperated.

“I thought... you wanted to, like. I dunno. I wanna say snuggle, but-”

“Yeah...” he said, as if Stiles was an idiot.

“So I’m, yanno, undressing...”

“Why are you faced away from me, idiot?”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder. “Not all of us are made of abs and - and - I don’t even KNOW what that muscle is,” he said, gesturing behind him to Derek’s hips.

Derek laughed. He was laughing, which was nice, but he was laughing AT Stiles, which was less than nice. “Stiles...”

“What? I’m like, the scrawniest kid in Beacon Hills and I can’t compete with-”

“I just sucked you off, and NOW you’re going to be shy?” And okay, when he put it like that, it did seem kinda silly. 

Stiles sighed and turned, and Derek sat up and slid over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed facing Stiles. Stiles dropped his pants and stepped forward. Derek held Stiles’ hips and dipped his head, kissing his way from the waist of Stiles’ boxers, up his happy trail, to his belly button. He nuzzled his face into Stiles’ belly, wrapping his arms around him, and then dragged him down on top of him and rolled them back.

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “This is just what I mean! You may be stronger, but it doesn’t give you the right to man handle me-”

Derek did it anyway, arranging them side by side, curled tightly to Stiles’ back. “You like being man handled.”

“What? I SO do not-”

“Then why was it, every time I used to press you up against a wall, you’d practically overload my senses with arousal?” Derek asked smugly.

“I - see, that’s just not - “ Stiles tried.

“Feeling’s mutual, has been, don’t be embarrassed, idiot,” Derek mumbled into his neck.

“I’m not an idiot,” Stiles said.

“I know. Now shut up, little spoon,” Derek huffed into his ear. Stiles sighed heavily, but pressed back into Derek and kept his mouth shut for once.


	2. Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wanna know just how big and bad I can be, little red?” Derek growled, licking his way into Stiles’ mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I had already posted this, and when I was trying to edit, AO3 ate it. So, here it is again. So sorry to anyone who already left kudos and comments, I love you all.

Stiles woke with a start, feeling disoriented. He squinted at his clock - just before 6am. He didn’t need to be up for school quite yet. He stretched his arm out to the other side of the bed, which was empty. Stiles had a feeling that might be the case; his dad would have gotten home an hour ago, and Derek would be sure to be gone by then. He was still a little disappointed, and turned to bury his face in the other pillow.

Stiles didn’t stay that way for long. He figured, with the pack being at school with him, some extra time to shower away the evidence was probably a good idea. He lathered and rinsed three times, for good measure. Once out of the shower, he splashed on some of his dad’s after shave. But then he thought that might give something away, so he took yet another shower. He was officially pruned when all was said and done, and his skin felt hot, but he hoped it will do the trick. 

After he dressed and packed up his backpack, he rushed down the stairs. His dad was at the table. “Morning.”

“Morning, Dad.” Stiles felt nervous, like somehow his dad would know. If he did know, he didn’t say anything, just read through the paper while Stiles ate his cereal across the table.

His dad stood and folded the paper. “Well, I’m going to bed. Have a good day at school.” He patted Stiles’ head on his way out the room, stopping to fix a picture on the wall that was crooked. The wall Derek had Stiles up against. His dad frowned a little, but shrugged it off and went up the stairs.

Stiles let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. How much information could his dad actually glean from a crooked picture? It couldn’t have been that incriminating - he hoped. He worried about it on the entire drive to school, but decided in the end that there was no evidence there.

He parked the Jeep and saw Scott locking his bike to the rack across the parking lot. Moment of truth, would Scott be able to tell? Stiles was pretty sure he’d almost scrubbed his skin off in the shower, so he was liking his odds. 

Scott smiled when he saw him and started walking over, but then stopped abruptly. His smile faded and he narrowed his eyes, only for them to grow wide. He looked kinda pissed, which Stiles did not take as a good sign. Scott marched quickly toward him.

“You slept with Derek?!” he hissed, and Stiles looked around nervously.

“Wh-what? No, why would that even-”

“You slept with Derek!” This time it was an accusation, and Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself. But he never got the chance.

“Damn right he did. Derek reeked of teenage boy when he got home,” Erica chimed in from behind Stiles. When had she gotten there? Stiles turned to glare at her. “About time, if you ask me,” she added with a wicked grin.

“What?” Scott and Stiles asked in unison, both sounding irritable.

“Oh please, Scott. You can’t tell me you haven’t sensed the pining coming from both of them. Or were you just too busy with Allison to notice anything at all?” Erica rolled her eyes.

“Notice what?” Allison asked, having just joined the group. Stiles was instantly grateful he wasn’t the only human here, and at least someone couldn’t sniff out his sexual encounters.

But she didn’t have to, because Erica volunteered the information gleefully. “Stiles and Derek hooked up.”

“Hooked up what?” Allison looked utterly confused.

“Jesus Allison, they had sex. Clearly.” And how could Lydia even KNOW that? And where the hell had she come from? And why was Jackson just smirking at him?

“Finally punched the old V-card there, Stilinski?” he chimed in. That must have been how Lydia knew; Jackson told her, damn werewolves.

“And no, Jackson didn’t tell me,” Lydia said to Stiles. Because she apparently was a frickin’ mind reader. “You could have cut that sexual tension with a knife.”

“Would it matter to any of you if I said it wasn’t true and to mind your own business?” Stiles tried, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No,” Lydia, Erica, and Jackson said in unison. Stiles sighed heavily and pushed his way through them, speed walking up to the school doors. Scott was the only one that followed him.

“So, it’s true, isn’t it?” Scott asked quietly.

“I don’t really think-”

“Stiles.” Scott caught him by the arm, turning him to face him. “I’m your best friend. These are the kind of things that you tell your best friend.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to get shit all day from my best friend,” Stiles shot back.

“Maybe you should give your best friend a chance before you decide on how they’re going to react.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then, yes. Okay? Derek and I... sorta hooked up last night.”

“And it just... happened?” Scott’s eyebrows raised.

“No. I mean, kinda? Look, he pretty much could, like, sense or whatever that I was into him - which is totally unfair, by the way. You werewolves can be real jerks.”

Scott chuckled. “And, what?”

“Well, he kinda admitted to wanting similar things and... then he came by after my dad went to work and-”

“And here’s where you can stop with the details,” Scott jumped in. “I thought you HATED Derek. And that he hated you?”

“I dunno! It just... maybe it’s like opposites attract or something?” Stiles started walking to his locker and Scott followed.

“Are you, like, dating now?”

Stiles snorted. “How the hell should I know? We didn’t really talk about that, and he was gone when I woke up.”

“He stayed the night?” Scott asked, voice raising a few octaves.

“Cuddled me, too,” Stiles smirked. He was totally gonna sell Derek out on that, he didn’t care.

“Derek... cuddles?”

“Oh yeah, big time cuddler,” Stiles said, closing his locker and heading to Econ with Scott.

~

“I don’t think I should come to the pack meeting tonight, dude,” Stiles told Scott at lunch.

“What? Why not?” Scott asked around a mouthful or french fries.

“Obvious reasons. Like, it’s gonna be totally awkward, and I don’t really contribute anyway-”

“Whatever, you always make the plans. You’re like, our evil mastermind. Except that you’re not evil.”

“Yeah, but think about it,” Stiles took a drink of his water. “All of you guys are just gonna be sniffing, and judging, and it sounds super distracting-”

“Liar,” Scott smirked.

“Heart rate?”

“Yup.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay fine. Maybe I’m just... like, I’m a little nervous. What if he thought it was a one time thing? What if it WAS just a one time thing? Probably best to just avoid his death glares and go on with my life-”

“Stiles. Don’t be a pussy. Man up, come to the meeting, face Derek. You’re not afraid of him,” Scott told him, taking him by the shoulders.

Stiles smiled. “ I’m not afraid of him.”

“You can do this.”

“I can do this,” Stiles repeated, confidence growing.

“You’ll be at the meeting,” Scott said.

“I’ll... ugh, fine. I’ll be at the meeting.”

~

Stiles decided to be early to the pack meeting. That way, he and Derek could talk before anyone else was there. Maybe sort things out. Reduce the terrible awkwardness he knew would be there. Halfway to Derek’s house, he changed his mind. What if everyone got there and thought they’d been hooking up beforehand? He turned the Jeep around on the road and drove the other way, taking a nice scenic tour of Beacon Hills.

Stiles decided to be late, instead. That way, no one could accuse them of having sexy fun times, and he had a solid alibi of not, yanno, being there.

When he got there, he regretted his decision immediately. Now he had to walk into the house, drawing all of the attention he really, really didn’t want. He got out of the Jeep, then almost got right back in. He took three steps toward the house, then two back. He thought maybe he could just leave and no one would notice.

Right as he fished his keys out of his pocket, Boyd appeared on the porch. “Stop lurking, man. We can all hear your heart, like, busting out of your chest. We know you’re here. Just get your ass inside so we can get started.”

Stiles stood there with his mouth hanging open, trying to find an appropriate response. Boyd waited five seconds before he rolled his eyes and went back inside.

Stiles swallowed his words and steadied himself, trying to exude confidence as he walked through the door.

“You’re late,” Derek said, and hey, it sounded like the same old Derek. The one who used to threaten him and tell him to shut up. Maybe Stiles shouldn’t have worried so much. Maybe it had been a one time thing and any cause for discomfort was unfounded.

“Yeah, sorry, I-”

“Shut up,” Derek silenced him. Stiles had the good sense to look offended before taking a seat on the couch next to Scott. Who was at least trying to hide his smirk.

The meeting was as uncomfortable as Stiles had imagined. Even without having supernatural senses he could feel the nervous excitement in the room, and knew it was his jerk friends trying to hold in their girlie giggles. Jerks. Derek sensed it too, if his bitchy attitude was anything to go by.

“All right, we’re done here. Clear out, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Derek said. They all stood, Stiles slinging his backpack over his shoulder and keeping pace with Scott, who seemed to be trying to ditch him.

“Stiles. You, stay,” Derek demanded.

“I’m not a dog, yanno,” Stiles shot back, but Scott shoved him in Derek’s direction with a small thumbs up, then rushed out the door with the others.

“Okay, just so you know, I didn’t tell them. They already knew, and how can that possibly be MY fault? I tried to-”

Stiles was interrupted by Derek fisting his jacket and pushing him up against the front door. Stiles’ cock twitched. Great. Pushed up against a wall fetish. Did that even have a name? Derek looked pissed and Stiles wasn’t going to back down, not for anything.

But then Derek was kissing him, pressing into him, even pressing him up the wall with his hips until Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s calves.

“Good,” Derek growled against Stiles’ lips.

“Wait, what? What’s good?”

“Did they smell me on you? Is that how they knew?” Derek grabbed Stiles’ ass, lining their pelvises up. And Derek was hard, grinding into Stiles.

“Y-yeah, they-”

“Good. Then they know.”

“Know what?” Stiles asked, trying to keep focus while Derek rocked against him.

“That you’re with me.”

“Whoa. Whoa whoa, hang on. Are you, like, claiming me? Because, that’s really not okay. I’m my own person, you don’t get to just-” Derek backed away, letting Stiles slip down the wall. “Okay, but hang on, that doesn’t mean you need to stop doing that, because I was totally okay with that.”

Derek pulled open Stiles’ fly, pushing his underwear and jeans down his legs. Then he did the same thing to himself.

“Are we ever gonna do this with our clothes off? Not that I’m complaining, but, yanno, it might - oh god...” Stiles stopped rambling when Derek pressed his cock up against Stiles’, then wrapped his hand around both of them.

“Are you telling me you don’t want this? That you don’t want to be with me?” Derek asked, but it wasn’t as if he actually didn’t know the answer. Stiles was sure Derek could smell the want and need and yes that he was feeling. Derek pulled his fist up around them, then slid it back down. Stiles couldn’t help thrusting his hips into it a little bit.

“This is cheating. You know it,” Stiles countered.

Derek quickened his pace a little. “I could stop.”

“You’re such a dick,” Stiles said.

Derek huffed out a laugh. “Is it so bad? Being wanted?” He smeared Stiles’ pre cum down their lengths, making Stiles moan.

“That part’s great, it’s the fact that you think I belong to you that’s the problem.” Stiles’ fingers were gripping Derek’s shoulders tightly. He couldn’t stop staring where Derek had their dicks pressed together easily in one hand.

Derek stopped and Stiles actually whined. “That’s not what I mean,” Derek said, brow furrowed.

“Kinda sounded like it.” Stiles did NOT want to have this conversation right now, Stiles wanted to get off. But he also wasn’t going to let Derek claim him like he was some object, either.

Derek frowned and shook his head. “That’s not... shit.” He backed off, and Stiles was not having that. He was NOT going to let Derek moon walk into the shadows and not explain anything. And he was NOT going to get blue balls, dammit. Not cool at all.

“No. No no no. You don’t get to pull the dark and mysterious crap with me, especially not in the middle of a handsy, and you know it. You can either hurry up and explain yourself and get back to what you started, or you can do it in the reverse order. I really don’t care.” Stiles realized how comical he must’ve looked, giving ultimatums with his pants at his knees and his erection poking out right in Derek’s direction.

“Why do you think those things about me?” Derek asked. He was closer again, but not close enough, and Stiles really wanted to be touched right now.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re excited your pack can smell that I belong to you and you’re all predatory alpha when you rip my clothes off?” Stiles sighed.

“Not TO me, WITH me, you idiot.”

“What?” Stiles was aggravated, and horny, and... okay, mostly just horny.

“I don’t think you belong TO me. I thought you belonged WITH me, that, yanno...” Derek looked uncomfortable and was possibly even blushing.

Stiles couldn’t fight back his grin. “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

“That’s not how I would have put it, but... yeah. I guess. But it’s more than that.”

“Oh crap, do you want me to be your mate or something?” Stiles’ eyes were large.

“I’m a werewolf, not a real wolf.” Derek rolled his eyes. Then, after a pause, “But yeah. That’s... kind of the idea.”

“But I’m not your bitch,” Stiles clarified, reaching out and grabbing Derek by the shirt collar. Derek raised an eyebrow. “I’m not. And I’m mostly not scared of you. Now get back here and finish what you started.” He stared Derek down as best he could, then added, “Please.”

“You have no regard for your own safety, you know that?” Derek mumbled against Stiles’ mouth.

“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” Stiles teased, and Derek forced him back against the wall.

“You wanna know just how big and bad I can be, little red?” Derek growled, licking his way into Stiles’ mouth. And yeah, okay, not only was Derek insanely hot, but he could keep up with Stiles, and that was sexy. That was something that had drawn him to Lydia. The biggest sex organ was the brain, they said. Although, with Derek pressed against him, he might be willing to second guess that fact.

“Come to bed with me,” Derek said, right into the crook of Stiles’ neck.

“Why?”

“You’re the one who wanted to do this without clothes,” Derek reminded him, pulling away. He tugged his pants up and turned, walking farther back into the house, where Stiles had never gone.

Stiles’ heart was pounding, but he yanked his jeans back into place and followed. Derek lead him down a dark hallway to a small room in the back. It was lit by a lamp on a rickety bedside table, showing more furnishings than Stiles had expected, given the state of the rest of the house. It almost looked like a normal room, aside from the charred walls.

Derek was watching him closely, and then sat on the bed. He gestured with his head for Stiles to join him, which for some reason was extremely nerve wracking. Stiles sat next to him, both of them facing out.

“So... this is your room...” Stiles started.

“Why are you nervous?”

Stiles sighed. “Bedrooms, yanno. Sometimes lead to sex.”

“You don’t... want...” Derek asked, confused. And this was totally Stiles’ fault for being greedy and sending out crazy pheromones, and yes, in theory he wanted it. But wanting it and having it were way different, because he assumed that, what with Derek being the alpha-

“You think I’ll hurt you?” Derek guessed, frowning.

“Not on purpose, or anything. I just... I’ve never. I mean, OBVIOUSLY I’ve never, and I’m... just kind of... worried...”

“Stiles, “Derek interrupted, placing a warm palm flat against his thigh, “we don’t have to do THAT. Not yet. Not ever, if you don’t want-”

“I want-”

“You don’t have to PROVE anything to me. I just... your hormones are driving me insane, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands off you. But we don’t have to do that. Or anything, if you don’t-”

“No!” Stiles said almost too loudly, then cleared his throat. He turned to face Derek. “I want you, believe me-”

“I know, I can smell it all over you-”

“But!” Stiles interrupted. “I’m just not sure I’m ready for, yanno, like the whole nine yards.”

“It’s a little smaller than nine yards.”

Stiles’ mouth hung open. “Are you telling jokes now?”

Derek’s mouth quirked in a smile. “Like, eight yards, maybe-”

Stiles punched him in the arm, then shook his hand out because clearly that hurt him more than it hurt Derek. “Okay, yanno what? Maybe I should just go.”

“Uh huh,” Derek grinned, turning to lean in to Stiles.

“Because I don’t have to take this, you know.”

Derek was on all fours now, backing Stiles down against the mattress. He yanked Stiles farther back on the bed and knocked Stiles’ knees open with his thigh, resting between them.

“I could go at any time.”

“Go for it,” Derek challenged, pressing his pelvis against Stiles’, and hey, his dick was still hard and pushing against his boxers.

“Do that thing again. With your hand, what you started in the other room,” Stiles said, his voice quiet but sure of itself. Derek smiled an honest, full smile - something rare - and worked Stiles’ pants down again. And then off, knocking his shoes to the floor with them.

“Shirt off, too,” Derek commanded, standing.

“What about you - oh-kay...” Stiles stopped as Derek pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the expanse of muscles. He dropped his pants and underwear to the ground. Stiles tried not to stare, but he was doing a shitty job while he watched Derek grab something off the night stand.

Derek resettled between Stiles’ thighs, their bodies aligning and making Stiles shiver. Derek licked his way up the side of Stiles’ neck, over his jaw, and to his lips. They kissed for a while, Stiles getting his hands everywhere he could, because jesus. Jesus, Derek was cut from freakin’ stone.

Stiles was rocking up against Derek, who was panting into his mouth and trying to keep from pushing Stiles through the mattress with his pelvis.

“God, Stiles,” Derek gasped, and it made Stiles moan. Derek reached out to whatever he had grabbed off the night stand, and it was a bottle of lotion. He pumped some into his palm, then reached between them. He grabbed Stiles’ dick and Stiles hissed and pushed up into it, then Derek wrapped that hand around himself, too.

“Why are you so fucking hot?” Derek asked, leaning down to nip at Stiles’ collar bone, then to catch his nipple in his teeth gently.

“Pot, this is Kettle,” Stiles huffed, finding himself short of breath. He looked down between them. “Jesus,” he cursed, thrusting up into Derek’s fist.

“Stiles...”

“Oh fuck, oh my god,” Stiles chanted, fingers gripping Derek’s biceps as he writhed under him.

“Stiles, I-” But then Stiles felt it, the hot flood of Derek’s come covering his chest, his cock, his belly. So much come, and Stiles looked down, saw the mess, saw Derek shuddering, still trying to move his hand.

“S-sorry, I-”

“Don’t you fucking stop,” Stiles whined, bucking his hips, Derek’s fist slicked again by his own come. “I’m so fucking close, don’t you dare...”

Derek fixed Stiles in his gaze intently and tugged up, twisted down, and Stiles’ mouth fell open. Derek slid one finger between Stiles’ cheeks, just barely grazing his hole, and then Stiles was coming. He had his feet pressed firmly into the mattress and his hips up against Derek’s, his come mixing with Derek’s on his belly.

“Oh fuck, oh, oh,” Stiles moaned, and Derek kept just grazing him, kept slowly tugging his cock. Stiles finally fell back to the bed, heart hammering and breathing heavily. “Holy god.”

“Sorry I... jumped the gun there. I usually have more control-”

“When you’re jerking off dudes?” Stiles supplied.

Derek glared. “I’ve done this a lot less than you think I have.”

“With dudes or... in general?” Stiles asked, rolling them onto their sides so they could comfortably look at each other.

“Both,” Derek answered nervously.

“More than I have. Anyway, does it matter?” Stiles asked, trying to get the frown off Derek’s face.

“No,” he admitted, then pulled Stiles to his chest, rolling on his back so Stiles could rest on him. “How long can you stay?”

“Couple hours, I guess,” Stiles shrugged.

“Do you want to?”

Stiles couldn’t see Derek’s face, but could practically hear the furrowing of his brow. Did Derek want him to stay? Was he just trying to be polite after a booty call, or did he want Stiles around?

“Sure, I guess. I’ll stay a while.” Stiles tried to play it cool, like it didn’t matter to him. He wanted to stay, yeah, stay there and rest against Derek’s skin, but he wasn’t going to show his hand just yet.

“You should shower, so you’re presentable when you get home,” Derek suggested, lifting his shoulder a little and tipping Stiles to the mattress.

“Uh, yeah. Wait, you have running water?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m not a complete savage, you know. Bathroom’s one door down on the left.”

“You’re... not going to shower?” Stiles asked lamely.

“Not yet. Got things to do.” Derek sat up, reaching for his boxers and jeans. 

Stiles tried to hide the disappointment, and either did a good job, or Derek just didn’t care or notice. Stiles let himself into the bathroom, starting the shower and digging for a towel. He couldn’t find one in the closet, just one hanging on the bar, which must have been Derek’s. Screw it, he thought. If Derek wasn’t going to join him, he’d use that asshole’s towel all he wanted.

It felt weird, showering at Derek’s, knowing he was just a few rooms away. He wondered why Derek had refused to join him, especially considering what had just happened. The logical explanation, the one Stiles desperately wanted to ignore, was that this was a booty call. Nothing more. Sure, Derek wanted to BE WITH HIM, but not necessarily in the hand holding, romantic sense. And did Stiles even care? He was getting some, regularly, which was way better than he’d hoped. Derek wasn’t going to hold his hand or recite love poems or any of that, which was fine. More than fine. Even if a little part of Stiles wondered if Derek was ashamed of him.

Which was ridiculous, considering how thrilled Derek had been that the pack could smell they were together. But maybe it was just him, marking his territory. My Stiles, my booty call, back off. Like he had to worry about THAT. People weren’t exactly breaking down Stiles’ door to woo him or anything.

His train of thought derailed when the shower curtain whipped back, and Stiles’ immediate reaction was to cover himself.

Derek snorted. “Been there, done that. Curb the modesty.”

“Um,” Stiles said stupidly.

“Don’t use all the hot water.” Derek closed the curtain again. 

Stiles turned off the shower, reaching out for Derek’s towel. He dried himself and sprinted naked to the bedroom to retrieve his clothes. Once he was dressed, he found Derek hunched over a laptop in the living room.

“I should... go. My dad...” Stiles trailed off.

“Right.” Derek frowned. Stiles really wished he smiled more. I’ll see you...”

“Soon,” Stiles supplied, trying to pretend he didn’t care when. Stiles could do this booty call thing, too.

Derek stood awkwardly as Stiles grabbed up his backpack, heading for the front door. Neither said anything, although Stiles waved like an idiot, something he chastised himself for the whole drive home.


	3. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can lie to yourself, and pretend this isn’t what you want, but I can smell it all over you,” Derek hissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already posted this, and when trying to edit it, AO3 ate it. Ugh. Sorry to all who left comments and kudos already, I love you. And especially sorry to all who had subscriptions, I hope you find it again.

“You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I could, actually. If it weren’t for you,” Stiles replied, walking next to Scott onto the field.

“Yeah, but. Do you want to?” Scott squinted into the sun, tossing his stick next to the bench and rearranging his gear.

“Not the point.”

“I thought that was the point.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Even if it was the point, which it’s not, why does it even matter to you?”

“Because you’re my best friend. And because you’re both obnoxious as hell right now. I don’t like being the go-between-”

“Oh, like I was for you and Allison?” Scott looked guilty. “Besides, I didn’t ask you to talk to him. And I’m betting he didn’t ask-”

“He wants you at meetings, Stiles. There’s something new out there. Something bad. You need to know-”

“So you can tell me, right? You can... keep me in the loop,” Stiles insisted, pulling on his helmet. “What is this new thing?”

Scott sighed. “We don’t know yet. Just that it’s already killed. The body Derek found... it... bled out.”

“Bled out?” Stiles wrinkled his nose.

“Yeah. Like, no blood and. Like a husk.”

“Does the Argent know about it?”

Scott glanced into the stands, where Allison was sitting with Lydia. She waved and smiled at them. “Yeah. He’s checking through the bestiary today, said he’ll let us know-”

“Whoa, whoa,” Stiles interrupted. “Is he... working WITH us on this?”

Scott nodded. “Bigger threat. Said he just wants this thing dead, and if we can help, he’ll take it.”

“What did Derek say?” Stiles picked up his stick, seeing Coach Finstock headed their way.

“Ask him yourself sometime,” Scott answered. Stiles scowled. “Come on, it’s been weeks since you’ve talked to the guy, I don’t know-”

“Look, it’s... complicated, is all. When he wants to see me, he knows where I live.”

~

Stiles had become almost obsessive compulsive about clearing his browser history. He didn’t think his dad would look, but you never know. And if he did? They’d be having a talk.

He also really, really wished gay porn sites had more clever names. And yes, he was watching a lot of porn these days. But it was research. Just in case. Not that he expected anything. It had been three weeks since the last time, with Derek. He knew avoiding the pack meetings was a weak move, but it was the only one he had.

He was in the middle of legitimate homework when he got a text from Scott. **chk ur email**

Stiles got up from where he was sitting cross legged on his bed and popped open his laptop. There was a forwarded email Scott had sent, from Argent. He downloaded the pdf, then opened it.

“Huli Jing?” Stiles read, muttering to himself.

“It’s an ancient Chinese demon,” a voice answered, making him jump.

“What’re you-”

“Where have you been?” Derek cut in, before Stiles could finish.

“Been busy. With... stuff. School. You know...”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Does this have anything to do with-”

“No,” Stiles interrupted. He didn’t know why he didn’t want to admit the idea of Derek only wanting him for sex hurt. He was still, as ever, a big fan of ignoring things until they went away. Which could include Derek. Stiles turned his back to him, looking at the screen. “This thing is for real?”

“Very real, and very dangerous. Stiles, you need to be careful. You need someone to protect you.” Derek had taken a few steps away from the window now, closer into the room.

Stiles snorted. “I think I’ve been doing a great job of avoiding all this by, yanno, staying away from werewolves.”

Derek glared and advanced on him, yanking him out of his chair by the collar of his shirt. He tugged the collar back into place, and then down, inhaling deeply at Stiles’ skin.

“What-” Stiles started.

“You can lie to yourself, and pretend this isn’t what you want, but I can smell it all over you,” Derek hissed. He suddenly sucked at Stiles’ skin, right over his collar bone, and Stiles couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped him. Derek worked the skin for a long time and Stiles fought not to bury his hands in Derek’s hair.

“If you’re ever ready, I’ll be waiting,” Derek said, slipping quickly out the window. And what did that mean? Ready for what? Sex? Dating? More hickeys?

And jesus, he looked in his mirror to see the purple and red flesh left by Derek’s mouth. He was flushed all over and so hard. He locked the door, eased his pants down, and sat on his bed. He grabbed his lotion and a handful of tissues, and made quick (really, embarrassingly quick) work of his hard on.

Okay, so clearly, maybe avoidance wasn’t the best tactic. Maybe he should man up and deal with this Derek thing. But first, there was research to do on this Huli Jing. He wasn’t coming to the next pack meeting empty handed.

~

“Do we know how to kill it?” Derek asked Argent, who looked rightfully nervous to be surrounded by a pack of werewolves.

“From what I’ve read on the internet, you have to cut off its tail when it’s in its true form,” Stiles supplied. He had his notes scattered across the floor, everything he had printed out, along with pictures.

“Its tail?” Isaac asked, leaning over the pages. “It looks like a coyote or something.

“It’s a fox,” Lydia butted in. “The Fox Fairy. You can get it to show its true form by making it drunk on wine.”

“Sounds familiar,” Jackson smirked, earning a glare from Lydia.

Argent raised his eyebrow. “Are we tracking it? How do we find it?”

“It haunts people at their houses, and then...” Stiles trailed off, blushing.

“And what?” Derek asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It... sucks out your life force through, um... through orgasm.” Stiles was a definite shade of purple then.

“It seduces,” Lydia added, reading one of the print outs. “Almost like a succubus.”

“A what?” Erica asked.

“Drains men of their will to live, you ought to know what that is, Erica,” Isaac teased. Erica made a face.

“So it will be after one particular person at a time?” Boyd asked.

“Not necessarily,” Allison corrected. “According to this, it can go after however many it wants.”

“Great,” Scott said sarcastically.

“So, again, how do we track it?” Argent asked.

“I don’t know yet, “ Stiles answered. “It gives people the symptoms of consumption.

“Consumption?” 

Isaac turned to Scott, “Tuberculoses.”

“I can check with my mom, see if anyone’s been in the hospital with that.”

“Good, Scott. I’m not sure if it can affect werewolves yet, but I’d rather not find out, so be careful,” Derek told them.

“It says here that it often lurks on rooftops, we could keep our eyes out for that,” Lydia read off a sheet of paper.

“All right, let’s be careful. If you think you see anything, you call me, got it?” Derek commanded.

“And then he calls me,” Argent added, giving Derek a look. Derek sighed and nodded curtly.

Everyone stood, gathering their things. It took Stiles slightly more time, what with the scattered research. “Should I leave this here or-”

“Yeah,” Derek replied. Stiles stacked everything neatly on the coffee table.

“I should... go...” Stiles said, looking nervously between Derek and Argent. He actually kind of wanted to stay, but he didn’t think that was the right move with Allison’s dad glaring at Derek.

“Be safe, Stiles,” Derek answered. Stiles nodded and left, Argent on his heels but saying nothing.

~

“My mom says she’s had two guys and a girl show up with those symptoms recently,” Scott said over the phone.

“And?”

“They’re still treating one guy and one girl, but the other guy died. And the other two aren’t getting better.”

Stiles sighed. “So this Huli Jing must still be visiting them at the hospital. That’s our chance to catch it.”

“How do we get it in its natural form, though? It’s not like we can take a bottle of wine to the hospital and trick it into having a few drinks.”

“No, but maybe we can track it. Did you tell Derek yet?”

“Calling him next. Unless... you want to....”

Stiles snorted. “It’s your news, you tell him. Let me know if anything happens. I’m going to keep researching this thing.”

Stiles hung up and went back to his laptop. He really needed to do some homework, but somehow this was a little more pressing. He was intrigued by this creature, and a little freaked, and the sooner they had it, the better.

~

“What did Derek say?” Stiles asked Scott under his breath as they walked through the hallway of the school.

“He went to the hospital last night to check it out with the pack. The people were both dead.”

“Both?” Stiles squeaked.

“Like, between the time I called him and when he got there. This thing works fast.”

Stiles frowned. “So how are we gonna track it now?”

“I guess wait for more people to show up at the hospital.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s the only one we have,” Scott shrugged. They had stopped at his locker for him to get his books.

“Excuse me,” said a voice behind Stiles. He whipped around.

A small, beautiful blonde stood there. He pointed to himself, unsure who she was talking to.

“Can you... it’s my first day. Do you know where the Chem room is?”

“Uhhhh... of course. We’re headed there now,” Stiles managed.

She smiled. “Thank you.” She walked next to them to class, keeping her head down.

“So, where did you move from?” Stiles asked.

“I move a lot, military brat. But most recently, San Diego.”

“There’s military stuff in Beacon Hills?” Scott chimed in.

“No, my dad finally retired. Wanted to settle down somewhere quiet.”

Stiles and Scott exchanged looks. This was not a quiet place, not by a long shot.

“Oh, I didn’t even - what’s your name?”

“Lilly. You?”

“I’m Stiles, this is Scott.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Well, here we are. Chem class,” Stiles announced. They took their seats, Lilly sitting nearby.

“Quiet down, class,” Harris said. “I’m about to explain your mid term project.”

Everyone groaned.

~

“So, hot girl as your project partner, hmm? Lucky break,” Lydia teased Stiles at lunch.

“Like I’m on her radar at all,” Stiles muttered. Hot girls were not into him. Hot guy was into him for reasons unknown. The data was inconclusive.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Since you hooked up with Derek those few times, you’ve been... more confident. I think it makes you more attractive.”

Did Lydia Martin just call him attractive? “Did you just call me attractive?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just because I said you were attractive doesn’t mean I’m going to take you here on the lunch table.”

Jackson sat down. “I heard all of that, you know,” he said pointedly to Lydia.

“Good for you,” she shot back.

“Are you gonna seal the deal, Stilinski? Or would Derek not like that?” Jackson was being a real prick.

“I don’t belong to him.”

Jackson snorted. “That’s not what I smell.”

Stiles glared. He wasn’t Derek’s property, and they weren’t officially together. Derek had no claim over him. “Maybe I will seal the deal.”

“Wouldn’t be so hard,” Scott added, taking a seat. “I can smell it, she’s totally into you.”

“Really?” Stiles grinned. And yeah, this girl was pretty. He could totally deal with hooking up with her. Then maybe Derek wouldn’t go around marking him and assuming he could have Stiles whenever he wanted, and ignore him whenever he didn’t. “She’s uh, coming over tonight to work on the project.”

Scott high fived him. “Dude, nice work.”

“Just because they’re doing school work doesn’t mean-” Allison started, but stopped short, blushing and glancing at Scott.

“Mmm hmm,” Stiles replied. “I know what studying means, all right.”

“Have you ever had a girl in your room before, Stilinski?”

“Besides your girlfriend, Jackson? I’m not sure.” He and Jackson glowered at each other.

“Boys, please. As hot is that is, don’t make me get the hose,” Lydia snapped.

“What time tonight?” Scott asked Stiles.

“Eight.”

“Right after your dad leaves for work, score.” Scott high fived him again.

~

Stiles’ enthusiastic confidence turned to nerves around 6pm. He poked at his dinner.

“You all right?” his dad asked.

“Yeah, just... stressing about my Chem midterm.”

His dad smiled. “You always do great in Chemistry, you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I guess...”

“Listen, I’m headed in early tonight. Gotta finish a report from last night.”

“The hospital break in?” Stiles asked, immediately wishing he hadn’t.

“Have you been listening to my calls again?’ his dad asked, tone flat.

“Um...”

His dad sighed. “Try to behave yourself while I’m gone, okay?”

“Yes sir,” Stiles muttered. He tried to finish his dinner, but couldn’t focus. Hot girl, coming to his house. And Derek would know she had been there. He would smell it. Is that what Stiles wanted? Did he want this girl, or to make Derek jealous with her?

Could he possibly pull off both?

He spent the time before Lilly arrived cleaning up his room, hiding any evidence that he’d been researching demons. That would be a little hard to explain. He barely finished before the doorbell rang and he raced down the stairs.

He pulled open the door. “Hey,” he tried to say coolly.

“Hi,” she smiled, tucking her hair behind one ear.

“Uh, come on in. We can, um... get to work. My homework is upstairs, so I can go get it-”

“Or we could just work in your room,” Lilly suggested. She somehow reminded him of Erica and Lydia combined, and that was... sorta hot. Short, like Lydia, blonde like Erica. Maybe she’d be smart like Lydia, and aggressive like Erica? His body definitely liked that idea.

“Yeah, let’s... let’s go on up. To my room.” Stiles lead the way, grabbing his backpack as they passed by the door. “Okay... I thought we could start-”

He jumped when he turned, because Lilly was right behind him. “Can I tell you where I’d like to start?”

~

“Where is Stiles?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Derek. He’s at home, working on his chemistry project.”

“We need to make sure he’s safe.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Now, tell us about the hospital-” Allison interjected.

“Where’s Lydia?” Derek interrupted.

Jackson spoke up, “On her way. She was just doing some quick research.”

Derek sighed. His pack. Why did they have to be teenagers again? Oh, right. Better chance of surviving the bite. And wasn’t that just annoying. “Fine. When we got to the hospital last night, the cops were already there. There’d been a break in to one of the rooms. The guy who had TB.”

“He was dead,” Erica provided. “But they said it was from the TB, not from anything else.”

“Same with the girl,” Boyd added.

“What about security footage?” Allison asked.

“My mom’s trying to get something, but the police took it. Maybe the Sheriff has it, maybe Stiles-”

But Scott was interrupted by Lydia flying through the door, breathless. “You guys... Stiles...”

“What?” Derek and Scott both asked, jumping to their feet.

“The girl, the new girl... Lilly...” Lydia panted.

“Who’s Lilly?” Derek gritted, trying to keep his jealousy at bay.

“Project partner,” Jackson volunteered.

“Lilly Vulpes, you guys! Her last name is Vulpes!” Lydia yelled. They all stared at her blankly. “Jesus, am I the only one here who speaks Latin?”

“Yes,” Isaac said plainly.

“Vulpes! It’s Latin for fox! He’s with her right now and-”

Derek was out the door before anyone could speak, or try to stop him. Scott was fast on his heels. No one heard the Camero start, so they must have left on foot.

“Should we follow them? Erica asked, looking torn. She hadn't gotten instruction, but the instinct to back her alpha was strong.

“Yes,” Boyd growled, his face changing as he headed for the door. The rest of the pack ran out into the night, leaving Lydia and Allison standing in the quiet of Derek’s house.

“I’m gonna call my dad,” Allison said, her hands shaking.

“I never should have encouraged him, I just thought maybe Derek would... that it would help if there was some competition...” Lydia babbled.

“He’s going to be fine, Lydia.” Allison insisted, dialing her father and listening to the ring.

~

Lilly was all over him, and hey, wasn’t that great? She was straddling his hips, pressing open kisses to his mouth. She scratched her nails down the nape of his neck.

“Is this... okay?” she asked coyly.

“Yeah, yeah definitely.” But that’s all it was; okay. Yes, this girl was attractive. Yes, his cock was taking notice, because there was a hot blonde squirming in his lap. But he stupidly missed the scratch of stubble on his chin. He missed strong arms forcing him wherever they wanted.

So it was official. He had stupid, huge bigger than a crush feelings for Derek. Which, great. Would not help with his being pathetic at all.

Lilly bit lightly at his throat, then harder, and it left a tingling sensation on his skin. She pushed his flannel off his shoulders, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. Her thumb brushed over a spot on his collar bone. Shit. The hickey. Derek’s hickey.

“That’s nothing. I mean, you don’t need to worry-”

“Get away from him!” 

Lilly and Stiles both turned to the window, where the angry growl had come from. Derek’s red eyes glowed, his face completely changed.

“What the hell, Derek? You can’t just-”

“Shut up, Stiles. You don’t know what’s happening.”

Stiles glared. “I think I can figure it out-”

“I was so, so close,” Lilly said playfully, shoving Stiles back on the bed but staying on top of him. “The mate of an alpha. What a prize. You even left your mark on him, thanks for that. It was the only way I could be totally sure. Even though he reeks of you.”

“What?” Stiles asked, dumbfounded.

“That’s the Huli Jing, Stiles!” Derek shouted, charging the bed.

Lilly bent low, her teeth at Stiles’ throat. “Ah ah ah. Manners.”

“I thought they had to... through sex...” Stiles babbled.

“That’s my preferred method,” Lilly purred against his skin. “It’s a lot more fun that way. But this? This is a lot faster.”

Stiles’ bedroom door crashed open, and Lilly bent quickly, sinking her teeth into Stiles’ throat. Derek rushed her, pushing her to the floor. Argent, who had been the one breaking down the door, shot her with an arrow. 

Derek stepped back as red smoke starting pouring off of her.

“What did you do?” Lilly shrieked. “Ashes?”

Argent nodded viscously. “Wasn’t sure it would work, but it looks like it’s doing the trick.”

Scott was suddenly by Stiles’ side, pressing his hands to the bite on his throat. Derek and Argent watched as the Huli Jing shrank a little, it’s face growing sharp, and ears sprouting from its head. Argent handed Derek a short sword.

“Do it.”

Derek nodded quickly, lifting the sword above his head. Lilly screamed as Derek cut off the tail, then she vanished in a vapor of red.

“Thank you,” Derek said lowly to Argent, who tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Stiles!” Derek turned quickly to the bed, where Scott was helping Stiles sit up.

Stiles had his hand to his throat, but there wasn’t much blood. “I think it’s okay.” He coughed. “A little sore, but nothing to-” he coughed again, covering his mouth. When he drew his hand away, it was shiny with blood.

“No,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles by the wrist. smelling his hand. “No.”

“What, Derek?” Scott asked, panicked.

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Argent shouted from behind them.

“It won’t help,” Derek spat. “Call Deaton. Now, Scott, do it!” Scott fumbled his phone and dialed the number as Derek scooped Stiles up. “Where are keys to the jeep?”

Scott shrugged, then started speaking into the phone.

“We can take my car,” Argent offered. Derek eyed him suspiciously, but he knew they didn’t have much time, or a choice. They raced down the stairs, Derek cradling Stiles against him. Derek sat in the back seat with Stiles across his lap.

“You’re going to be okay,” Derek assured him, but even as he said it he was shaking. Stiles coughed weakly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.


	4. Bonded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s - it’s too much, I can’t. I’m not strong enough... Derek, you have to-”
> 
> “What?” Derek said quickly.
> 
> “You have to do it, you’re the alpha, you can handle-”
> 
> “I’m not... I don’t think...”
> 
> “Derek, he’ll die!” Scott shouted, desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had what some might consider dub con. It's very light, if really there at all.

Derek rushed out of Argent’s SUV toward the door of the vet clinic with Stiles in his arms, and Scott unlocked it with his key. Derek made his way back to the exam table, laying Stiles down.

“Where is he?” Derek growled at Scott.

“On his way, any minute now.” Scott’s voice wavered. He was holding Stiles’ blood covered hand. Stiles coughed, more blood leaking from his mouth, his face going pale.

“Scott, he’s dying.”

“I know, Derek! Just - I know!”

Derek paced until he heard the bell above the door, then he practically charged Deaton.

“What happened?” Deaton asked Scott.

“A... a demon, it bit him.”

“The Huli Jing,” Derek added.

“Did you kill it?” Deaton asked the room, bending down over the wound on Stiles’ neck.

“Yes,” Argent said, and Deaton smiled at him, amused he was there.

“Chris, good to see you fighting for the right side.” Argent scowled. “How?”

“Ashes, then cut off the tail.”

“Very smart. You have any of the ash left?”

Argent nodded, pulling a vile from his pocket and handing it over.

“What’s with the ash, anyway?” Scott asked, still clinging to Stiles’ hand. Deaton smiled at Chris to explain.

“In the old legend, if you burned paper charms against the Huli Jing and drank the ashes as tea, it would protect you. I thought maybe if we shot the ashes into it, it would-”

“Weaken it. And it worked,” Deaton finished.

“Yes,” Argent agreed. “It took its true form, and we were able to cut off the tail.”

“Very smart, I must say.” Deaton pulled the cap off the ashes. “This is going to hurt, hold him steady.”

Scott and Derek each grabbed one of Stiles’ arms, pinning him to the table. Deaton sprinkled the ashes on the bite on his neck, pressing them down against the skin.

Stiles screamed, writhing on the table where he was held. Derek and Scott both flinched at the noise, exchanging nervous looks. But when Deaton moved his hand away, the skin was closing and healing.

“Oh thank god. Is he okay?” Scott sighed with relief.

“No, the poison is still in him. Scott, give me your hands.” Deaton took Scott by both wrists, pressing his palms against Stiles’ ribs, over his lungs. The black infection started traveling up Scott’s arms, but then Scott fell back, panting and shaking.

“It’s - it’s too much, I can’t. I’m not strong enough... Derek, you have to-”

“What?” Derek said quickly.

“You have to do it, you’re the alpha, you can handle-”

“I’m not... I don’t think...”

“Derek, he’ll die!” Scott shouted, desperate. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica appeared in the doorway, but kept back out of the room.

“We don’t know what affect it might have-”

“Derek,” Erica voiced quietly. “Do it. You know you have to, it’s the only way.”

“But-”

“She’s right,” Deaton said, looking Derek up and down quietly, then tapping his finger to the bruise on Stiles’ collar bone.

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. pressing his hands against Stiles. Just as it had with Scott, the black poison traveled up the veins in Derek’s arms. He winced, then hissed. It kept traveling, up his neck, across his eyes, the blackness overtaking him and he screamed. Derek stumbled but kept his hands in place, and soon the blackness ran clear. He toppled back.

Scott staggered upright, leaning against the table where Stiles laid with his eyes closed.

“Is he-”

Stiles took a deep breath and his eyes popped open. He coughed, but there was no blood.

“Oh thank god. Oh thank god,” Scott chanted, resting his forehead on Stiles’ arm.

“What the fuck?” Stiles croaked, taking in his surroundings, everyone staring at him. He saw Derek slumped in the corner. “Derek?” He winced at the panic in his own voice.

“M’fine,” Derek slurred.

“What happened to him?” Stiles asked Scott, his eyes wide.

“He saved your life,” Deaton answered.

~

Scott had helped Stiles out to Argent’s car, and the other wolves had trekked on foot back home for the night. Derek had hung behind, having a hushed conversation with Deaton, who eventually helped Derek into the SUV.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Scott asked Deaton, eyeing Derek.

“He’ll be weak for a few days, that took a lot out of him,” Deaton said, smiling lightly at Derek. “But he’ll be at full strength in no time.”

Stiles chewed guiltily at his lip. This was totally his fault, if he hadn’t been such a stupid jackass, Lilly never would have gotten to him. And Derek wouldn’t have had to-

“I’m taking you home now, “Argent said, giving them all a stern look and starting the car. It was a silent drive, and he dropped them all at Stiles’ house. “I trust you can get Derek home?” Argent asked, looking between Scott and Stiles.

“Yeah, I can,” Stiles volunteered hesitantly. Scott raised his eyebrows at him. “Thank you. For... um, everything,” Stiles told Argent.

Argent actually smiled. “It’s why I do this, you know.” 

They piled out of the car, Scott supporting Derek’s weight since he wasn’t doing a very good job on his own. “Do you need help?”

“Nah,” Stiles answered. “Just help me get him into the jeep.”

Scott put an arm under Derek’s and lead him to the passenger side of the car. Stiles pulled his spare key out of its hiding place tucked in the back of the canvas. Once Derek was settled, Scott came around to the driver’s side and looked Stiles over before pulling him into a hug.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, you asshole,” Scott said wetly into Stiles’ neck.

“Trust me, so not on my agenda.”

Scott sniffled and pulled back. “Good luck,” he mouthed, and Stiles rolled his eyes before getting into the jeep.

It was chilly, and Stiles still had no shirt on, but thought it better to get Derek home than worry about running inside for one. They were half a mile down the road when Derek said, ”Take my jacket.”

“What? No, no way. You’re the one who’s injured here, I’m just fine-”

“Take it,” Derek insisted, having already peeled it off with some difficulty. He thrust it at Stiles. Stiles scowled and carefully put the jacket on while he has holding the wheel. It felt weird; it was way too big for him, and the leather was heavy, but warm from Derek’s body.

“Thanks,” Stiles said quietly. “You... you get that I’m really sorry about this, right?”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I should have... I’m just sorry you had to-”

“Look, you just need to be more careful, all right?” Derek spat, wincing at the effort it took. “You need to think: a pretty girl, new in town, all over you-”

“Oh, because it’s SO unlikely any random pretty girl could be into me?” Stiles yelled. He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“That’s not what I meant. You just need to be more careful. You can’t let yourself be taken by a pretty face! You put yourself in danger, the people you know in danger-”

“Are you still talking about me and Lilly?” Stiles asked, because he had a feeling they weren’t. He had a feeling Derek had something like this happen to HIM.

“Yes,” Derek gritted out. “And stop calling her Lilly! She was the Huli Jing, just a demon.”

Derek sighed and turned to face the window. Stiles caught his reflection in the glass, and saw pain, and not just necessarily physical pain. “I’m... it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It doesn’t matter, Stiles.”

“No, I want you to know-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Derek growled, tensing. “You’re allowed to make your own decisions. You are your own person.”

Oh, and how it sounded like it cost Derek to say that. It was a feeling that hit Stiles right in the gut, with so many shades of guilt. Caught making out with some girl, then Derek had to save his ass, putting himself at risk.

“Derek, I-”

“Can we just... not talk, please? I’m tired, I just. We’ll talk later. If you still need to.”

Stiles squeezed his eyes closed tight, then popped them back open. He kept his mouth shut for the rest of the drive, which wasn’t long. When they got to Derek’s, Stiles rushed out of the car to Derek’s side and pulled open the door.

“I got it.”

“No,” Stiles argued. “You’re injured, let me help-”

“I said I got it!” Derek snapped, eyes flashing red. Stiles stumbled a few paces back. Derek slid from the car, wavering before taking slow, winding steps to his house.

“Hey, your jacket-”

“Get it to me later. Just... go home, Stiles.”

There was a finality to it that Stiles couldn’t argue with. He got back in the jeep, waited until Derek was inside, then drove home.

Luckily, demon evaporation left little clean up in his room, besides the sword he tucked under his bed and the small amount of blood on his pillow. Stiles cleaned his room quickly, then showered the blood off his neck. When he got back to his room, he eyed the leather jacket he had hung on the back of his chair. If his dad saw this, he might start forming connections. 

Stiles felt badly about shoving the jacket under the bed, but what else could he do? The closet, maybe? What if his dad looked in there for some reason? He climbed into bed and tried to sleep. He felt so guilty, so stupid. He ran his fingers over the spot Derek had left on him. Then he leaned over the bed, retrieving the jacket and cramming it under the covers with him. He let his fingers grip the leather as he fell asleep.

~

Stiles woke up when the sun hit his face. He kept his eyes closed, because it felt so good. He felt completely rested, and warm, and safe. Was it silly to think it was because of the jacket?

“Stiles, what are you doing here?”

Stiles’ eyes flew open. He was not at home. He was... the room was lit by a single small window near the ceiling. The walls were dark. The body next to him was warm. He cautiously turned his face to meet Derek’s eyes.

“Um.”

“You can’t just-”

“I didn’t just!” Stiles started, struggling up and out of the bed. He was WEARING the damn jacket. “Okay, I realize this looks like stalker levels of crazy, but I didn’t-”

Derek was staring at Stiles’ bare feet, covered in dirt. “Did you walk here?”

Stiles looked down. “I don’t... I don’t remember.”

“Wait, what?” Derek asked, sitting up quickly and then wincing.

“Whoa, slow down there, turbo. You need to take it easy-”

“You walked here, at night, and don’t remember?”

Stiles swallowed visibly. “I... guess?”

Derek’s body slumped. “This is what I was afraid of.”

“Teenage stalker? Cuz hey, you kind of started this.”

“No, you idiot. The... when I healed you, last night. I was afraid it would... create a bond.”

“I thought you WANTED to be bonded,” Stiles said quietly.

“Not like this. I wanted you to come to me when you were ready... not because you HAD to.”

“How do you know I didn’t want to?” Stiles challenged.

“How do YOU know you DID?” Derek shot back. The strength drained from him and he fell back onto his elbows.

“Okay, let’s just...” Stiles sat back down on the bed. “Relax, okay? And tell me more about this bond.”

“I don’t KNOW anymore,” Derek said angrily.

“How can you not know? From a family of werewolves-”

“Who burned alive when I was a kid,” Derek growled. “You think they had time to teach me everything?”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t figure out what. Eventually, he settled for, “I’m sorry.”

“No. I shouldn’t... I just don’t have the answers, okay?” Derek slumped back, looking even weaker than he had before.

Stiles crowded in next to him. “Is there something I can do? For this?”

Derek sighed. “In the kitchen. Deaton gave me some pills, he said it would help.”

Stiles nodded quickly. “I’m on it. Maybe some food. Water, for sure. I’ll make this right, Derek. Don’t worry about that.”

Stiles was out of the room before he could Derek say thank you.

~

Derek had a lot more food in his fridge than Stiles expected. There was a lot about Derek that took him by surprise. He’d always just kind of pictured a creepy guy, living in the burnt husk of his of house, without water or electricity.

In retrospect, that was a stupid thing to think. Derek never looked unwashed or starved or anything. Stiles had just never put enough together about it.

It was early still, so he made toast and eggs and bacon. He was pretty used to cooking, he’d done a lot of it since his mother had died. He figured Derek had, too. Stiles would have been lost without his dad, he didn’t know how Derek did it. Sure, he’d had Laura at first, but now, he had no family left. It made Stiles’ stomach hurt, and he finally understood why it was so important to Derek to have a pack, to keep them safe.

Derek was sleeping when Stiles came back into the bedroom, and Stiles placed the food, water, and pills on the night stand carefully. He sat next to Derek on the edge of the bed and gently shook his shoulder.

Derek’s eyes fluttered open. “Stiles?”

“Still me.”

“Do you need to borrow some clothes?” 

Stiles blushed. Sure, he’d since taken off the jacket, but apparently his sleep walking adventure had begun before he’d dressed, and he was only in his pajama pants. “I could totally. I mean, I’m fine, but if it’s weird-”

“Not weird. C’mere,” Derek slurred, trying to drag Stiles down on top of him.

Stiles resisted, which took hardly any effort. Which, jesus. Derek WAS weak from saving him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the advances, really. But let’s take care of you first.”

“Take care of me?” Derek grinned drunkenly and raised his eyebrows.

Stiles sighed. “I meant food, water, medicine. Do you understand me?”

Derek frowned, then shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. What, why? What did I say?”

“Well, you were kinda coming on to me,” Stiles admitted.

Derek’s frown deepened. “Must be the bond. Or the heat-”

“In heat, again?” Stiles exclaimed.

“Well, it’s been a while,” Derek glared. “I’m fine, just, help me up.”

Stiles eased Derek into a sitting position, then handed him the pills and the water. “What are these pills?”

“Just some herbs, Deaton said they’d help. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Stiles looked at them carefully, and watched Derek take two with the water. Stiles held his plate while Derek ate, which pleased him. He was glad Derek could handle food, at least.

Derek fell back onto the bed almost immediately after Stiles put the plate down. Stiles frowned and put his hand to Derek’s forehead. He was burning up, drenched in sweat.

“I thought the pills were supposed to help.”

Derek’s eyes barely opened. “They are.”

“Then why do you look worse than when we started here?” Stiles hated the mothering tone in his voice.

Derek swallowed hard, his chest heaving with every breath. “It’s you. It’s... the heat cycle. Don’t worry, I’m too weak to hurt you.”

Stiles scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me.”

“You should be,” Derek said.

“Would it help if-”

“Stiles, no,” Derek threatened. Stiles ignored him, brushing his fingertips down over Derek’s ribs. Derek hissed, moving into the touch against his will. “You don’t have to-”

“Maybe I want to. We’re passed this part, Derek. Come on. I’ve already... and WE’VE already-”

“I don’t want it this way,” Derek forced out through clenched teeth.

“What ‘way’?”

“I don’t... I don’t want the sympathy. I don’t want it out of necessity. I want... I want you to want-”

Stiles kissed him before he could continue, just a press of lips at first, until Derek hungrily licked into his mouth. Derek’s hands were shaking when he cupped Stiles’ face, and Stiles ran his palm lower down Derek’s abdomen, teasing under the elastic band of his underwear.

“Stiles,” Derek whined breathlessly against his lips. Stiles didn’t know if it was a plea to stop or keep going, but his mind was made up anyway. He pressed lower, wrapping his hand around Derek’s cock. Derek moaned, and he was so hot, so hard, pre cum beading at the tip.

“Jesus,” Stiles swore, his stomach dropping, his dick straining in his pajama pants. He wanted to lay himself out on Derek, rub against his skin, but this wasn’t a time to be greedy.

He pulled away and Derek almost sobbed, hips bucking up trying to follow his hand. Stiles pulled the sheets back, tugged Derek’s boxer briefs off. He settled between Derek’s spread thighs, kneeling on the mattress there, and wrapped his fist around Derek again.

Derek’s eyes were pressed tightly closed and his lower lip was trapped momentarily between his teeth. Stiles slowly rolled his wrist, reaching with his other hand to the night stand, grabbing the lotion he knew Derek kept there. He squirted some right on to Derek’s skin, Derek jolting at the cold. But Derek said nothing, didn’t open his eyes, just pressed up into the slickness of Stiles’ hand.

Stiles was so hard, he thought maybe he was getting lightheaded from the lack of blood flow to his brain, but he focused. Picked a fast, tight grip and kept it going, sliding his thumb over the head of Derek’s prick every few strokes.

“Stiles,” Derek choked out, his muscles clenching, and Stiles sped up, tried to remember to keep breathing, tried not to come in his pants... again.

Derek latched on to his wrist, stilling his hand as he came all over his own chest and stomach, on Stiles’ fingers, body shuddering. Stiles couldn’t stop the low moan that escaped him, making Derek’s eyes shoot open.

“Stiles,” he said again, trying to catch his breath. He reached for Stiles, caught the waist of his pajama pants, before Stiles could stumble backwards off the bed. Derek wrinkled his brow in confusion. “I thought... you would want-”

“Oh, I want. I can’t even begin to... how MUCH I want.” Stiles cleared his throat to compose himself. “But you need to rest, Derek. You don’t need to-”

“-I WANT to-”

“And I WANT you to, believe me. But it’s totally fine. Because you will get your strength back, and then you can owe me one, or whatever,” Stiles joked.

Derek chuckled weakly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“I’m just gonna... get something to clean this up with, but you stay right there,” Stiles told him. He walked down to the bathroom, finding a washcloth in the closet. He washed his hands, then splashed some water on his face because jesus. Jesus, he wanted to come so badly, wanted to come with Derek. Sometimes being the better man was a pain in the ass.

He dampened the washcloth with warm water and trudged down the hall to Derek’s room. Derek was sleeping peacefully, which actually helped Stiles feel a little less cheated out of getting off. There was always later... wasn’t there?

Derek stirred a little but didn’t wake when Stiles ran the cloth over him, wiping him clean. He pulled the sheet back into place, wondering if werewolf fevers broke like human fevers. He tossed the cloth in a hamper near Derek’s closet, and quietly looked through Derek’s dresser for something to wear.

After finding gym shorts and a t-shirt he hoped would fit him at least a little, he went back into the bathroom for a nice, cold shower. He started the water, stripping off his pajama pants, and then stepped in.

The water was colder than he usually took it, but he needed to clear his head. He and Derek were bonded now? What could that even mean? Maybe he could find some information online. Maybe there would be something in the bestiary. But could he even ask Argent about that? 

_Hey, Mr. Argent. So, as you may or may not know, I’m kinda doin’ it with Derek Hale. Yeah, the werewolf. Anyway, that weird thing he did that saved my life seems to have made us soul mates or what have you, but I don’t know what that means. Ever heard of it?_

Ugh, no. That was NOT happening.

But had the bond always been there, maybe? Stiles had been the one to get Derek through his last heat, and it was because of an emotional connection. Maybe that’s all the bond was, nothing new. But Stiles HAD walked miles in his sleep just to cuddle up with Derek.

And as much as Stiles tried NOT to think about the fact that he had just jerked Derek off, his dick thought that was a swell topic to ponder. Stiles ignored it; he washed his hair, lathered every part of his body EXCEPT his cock, and turned the hot water down even more.

Teenaged boy hormones were NOT easily deterred. Stiles sighed, resigned, and finally, _finally_ ran a soapy palm over his cock. And fuck, if that didn’t feel amazing, and needed. He teased himself, stroking a finger up his length, then gripping himself tight. He lathered soap on his other hand, slipping it back, teasing one finger over himself.

He’d done that before in the shower, just to see what it was like. But now he imagined it was Derek’s hand, exploring his body. Maybe trying to open him up so he could fuck him. Stiles’ broken moan echoed in the bathroom, even as he tried to stifle it. He pushed in, just a little, and felt the clench of his muscles. He pumped his fist over his dick, leaking pre cum onto his fingers. He pressed a little deeper-

The shower curtain flew back and he stared, face to face with Derek, his hands frozen in place. He blinked his wide eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to find something to say, trying to ignore the burn of shame on his cheeks. He opened his mouth to explain.

“I can hear your heart beating, I can hear you breathing. I can SMELL you,” Derek said before Stiles could try to explain. Stiles’ mouth hung open, but he drew his hands away, holding them in front of himself almost defensively.

“I’m... sorry,” he started, but Derek shook his head, pushing his way into the shower.

“No,” Derek said. No, what? No, Stiles wasn’t sorry? No, he had no right to beat off in Derek’s shower.

“No?” Stiles asked.

Derek pressed him roughly face first into the tile. It was cold on his skin, on his dick, and it made him hiss. “What are you thinking? An in-heat werewolf just a few doors away, and you’re going to touch yourself?”

“I didn’t... I didn’t MEAN to, I-”

“Didn’t MEAN to?” Derek growled, and he sounded mad. Stiles was scared, he knew Derek could tell. Could hear his heart hammering away, could smell it on him. But his cock was still hard, even through the terror and the shame.

“I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I-”

“Greedy little boy,” Derek smirked, his lips right against Stiles’ ear. Derek reached past him, grabbed the soap, slipped back just enough to touch Stiles. He drug the bar across Stiles’ back, down the curve of his spine, over his ass. Stiles kept his lips pressed together, trying to hold in a whimper.

“I know what you want,” Derek said quietly. He placed the soap back on the shelf, but his hands kept massaging it over Stiles’ skin, lathering him. His finger slid easily between Stiles’ cheeks.

“You shouldn’t-”

Derek growled, and that effectively shut Stiles up. “You’re making me... making me do this. Because you’re driving me crazy. I smell it all over you, how much you want it. I have to... I have to,” Derek murmured against the back of Stiles’ neck. He pressed the tip of his finger in, like Stiles had done to himself. “You want this.”

“Derek-”

“You want me to stop?” His voice was quieter, less primal and predatory. Stiles panicked, because he thought Derek had changed his mind, and of course Stiles wanted it. 

“Don’t stop,” Stiles whispered, and he could feel the curve of Derek’s smile against his shoulder. Derek pushed deeper and Stiles clenched around his finger, gritted his teeth. It didn’t hurt as much as it was uncomfortable, and invasive.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Derek purred. “I just want you to feel good.”

Stiles’ hips jerked back at that, pushing Derek’s finger deeper, and Stiles let out a moan this time, loud and shaky in the small room.

“God, I just want to tear you apart sometimes,” Derek said, finding a slow, shallow pace in and out of Stiles. Stiles made a strangled sound and Derek chuckled. “I want to taste every inch of you. You taste as good as you smell. God, you’re making me fucking crazy, Stiles.”

Stiles rocked back harder, wanting more, the discomfort fading into heated pleasure. Derek obliged, pushing deeper, crooking his finger.

“Fuck!” Stiles cursed, his voice bouncing back at him in an echo.

“Good. I’m going to destroy you.”

“Fuck, Derek, please,” Stiles begged, aware of the desperation in his own voice. He reached down for his cock, but Derek swatted his hand away.

“Not yet. I want you wound up so tight for me, Stiles, that I barely have to touch you to make you come. Do you understand?” When Stiles didn’t answer, Derek asked again, louder, demanding an answer. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.” Stiles shamelessly lifted his hips to Derek and he heard the pleased sound Derek made.

“That’s right. Beg for it, Stiles.”

Stiles moaned, trying to rock his hips against Derek’s movements. Derek started moving faster, rubbing maddening circles against the place that made Stiles’ legs shake and his breathing hitch.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, Stiles,” Derek whispered against the shell of his ear. “God, I’ve wanted to for so long. But not yet. You need to get used to this, first. I don’t want to hurt you. You’ll need to be worked open for me. You’re so tight, fuck.” Derek moaned this time, and Stiles fought the urge to reach back, see if he was hard.

Derek seemed to sense the instinct, and he took a broken breath. “You know I am. How could I not be? But no touching, only I get to touch right now.” Derek grabbed the soap again, adding to the lather on Stiles’ skin. A second finger nudged against him. “Can you take it? I won’t hurt you.”

Stiles nodded so hard he thought his head might roll off his shoulders. Derek pulled the first finger out, then pushed two back in. Stiles hissed, but it broke off into a sob. Derek’s pace was maddening and perfect and Stiles’ balls felt tight and his nerves were prickling everywhere Derek touched him.

“I - I,” Stiles tried, stuttering over the words.

“You want to come,” Derek provided, and Stiles nodded frantically again. “You NEED to.”

“Please,” Stiles moaned. Derek pushed in, rubbing right where it made Stiles’ vision spotty, and then he reached around. He wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, and didn’t even have to stroke before Stiles was coming against the tile.

His moans sounded broken and needy and they filled the room, and Derek was saying, “Yes, yes,” into his ear. Stiles had both hands braced on the wall, and he still felt light headed. Derek kissed the base of his neck when he pulled his fingers away, and Stiles whimpered at the sensation. Stiles looked cautiously over his shoulder, and saw Derek taking steadying breaths, his head down.

“Derek...” he started. “I can-”

Derek cut him off with a firm shake of his head, and when he met Stiles’ eyes, his were burning red.

“Oh fuh... um, should I-”

“I’m fine,” Derek managed, the red slowly ebbing away. “I’m sorry. You just make me crazy. Everything just smells like you, like your sex.”

Stiles panted, trying to catch his breath. The water had gone cold, but Stiles used it to splash the wall clean, to rinse himself. Derek was calming down, and he stepped into the cold spray with Stiles for a few moments before shutting off the water.

Derek grabbed the lone towel off the rack, and he ran it over Stiles’ skin quickly, then his own. He stepped out of the shower and Stiles followed, feeling strangely vulnerable. Stiles put on the clothes he had borrowed, and Derek had a strange look on his face at that. He looked amused, or fond. He linked his fingers with Stiles’ and led them back to the bedroom.

“Can you stay a while?” Derek asked, wavering a little on his feet, and Stiles winced at the strength it must have cost him just to get out of bed, let alone what he’d just done for Stiles... to Stiles.

“If you want me to.” Stiles knew he shouldn’t, that his dad was probably wondering where he was without his phone, his jeep... his clothes. Derek smiled sleepily and crawled back into bed, pulling Stiles with him. He curled into Stiles’ side, and it wasn’t long before he had drifted off.

Stiles couldn’t sleep, there were too many thoughts vying for attention in his brain. He stayed for an hour, before the guilt of not telling his dad where he was caught up. And wouldn’t that be a fun lie to invent?

“Derek, I gotta go,” he whispered. Derek didn’t stir, so Stiles carefully freed himself from under Derek’s arm and tip toed toward the door.

“Come back.”

He jumped when Derek spoke, not thinking he had woken him. He turned to look at Derek, whose eyes were open but still heavy with sleep.

“I will,” Stiles promised. Derek’s eyes drifted closed again, and Stiles crept into the kitchen. He spotted Derek’s phone there and let out a huff of air, picking it up and tapping the screen. He knew he was going to get shit for this, but it was better than walking home alone and having to explain that to his dad. He sent a text to Scott, then waited outside on the porch for a ride he hoped would actually show.


	5. Swinging For Both Teams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, I don’t know what I’m trying to tell you. No, yes I do. Okay. Here goes. Heeeeeere goes,” Stiles worked himself up. “I’m probably, um, a little bit bisexual.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while, I was out of town.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

Scott shrugged, obviously trying to bite back the grin threatening to break at any moment. “Sure thing.”

Stiles glared at him. “Just say it!”

“Say what?”

“Whatever it is that you’re... holding in over there. Whatever comment-”

“So things are good with Derek?” Scott asked loudly, smirking.

Stiles sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

Scott turned his head quickly, his glee replaced with confusion. “How can you not know? You obviously stayed at his place - you’re wearing his clothes! You smell-”

“Tut tut tut, I’m going to stop you right there, because that is seriously creepy and I don’t need to know.” Scott tipped his head, urging for more information as he pulled the car out of the woods and onto the main road. “Didn’t you wonder how I got here? Why I needed a ride?”

Scott crinkled his nose. “I... guess I didn’t think about it.”

“I walked here last night, Scott. In my sleep. In my pajamas.”

“Why?”

“In my sleep, Scott, so how the hell should I know? Derek thinks... Derek thinks that what happened when he saved my life may have... caused a bond between us. Something that draws us to one another.”

“You should ask my boss! I bet he’d totally know. He’s like, a werewolf expert.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Stiles mused.

“So, this bond... Is that why you... um... hooked up last night?”

“I never said - how can you possibly-” Scott stopped him by tapping his nose. “Dude, gross.”

“You think it’s gross for you? Seriously, I wish I could turn it off sometimes,” Scott whined playfully.

Stiles punched him in the arm. “I don’t know if that’s why we hooked up, or if he actually, I don’t know, likes me. Or if it’s the heat cycle-”

“The what?” Scott almost shrieked, jerking the steering wheel a little and tossing them around in the front of the car.

“Nothing!” Stiles answered quickly.

“Oh no no, I HEARD that. Heat cycle? Seriously?” Scott pulled a disgusted face.

“Hey, you’d have one TOO if you weren’t banging Allison all the time,” Stiles muttered.

“You liiiiike him,” Scott sung. “You’re defending his honor.”

“He would seriously kick both of our asses if he heard you say that.”

“He may not KICK yours...” Scott mocked, earning him another arm punch. They pulled up in front of Stiles’ house, his dad’s cruiser looking menacing in the driveway. “You ready?”

“Hell no. I have no idea what to tell him.”

Scott gave him a sympathetic look. “Good luck, bro.”

“Thanks. And thanks for the ride.” Stiles got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. His dad was on the porch before he got there.

“Where the HELL have you been, Stiles?” his dad yelled.

“At Scott’s?” Stiles tried, wincing. His dad yanked him inside by his (Derek’s) shirt.

“I’m not buying that, and you know it! You can’t... you can’t just... I got home from work, no note, your cell here... the JEEP here, I thought, I thought-”

“I’m fine,” Stiles interrupted.

“And I can see that, now! Do you know how worried-”

“I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“What’s been going on with you lately?” His dad sounded exhausted. It felt like a punch in the gut. “You keep lying to me, sneaking around, you’re out all hours...” His dad trailed off. “Is it... is it a girl?”

It would be a convenient excuse, one that might work and might actually make his dad proud for a change. The fact that maybe he’d finally landed a girlfriend. For some reason, Stiles stupidly answered, “Not a GIRL...” Then he slapped his hand over his mouth while his dad’s jaw dropped.

“Stiles... are you... trying to tell me-”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m trying to tell you. No, yes I do. Okay. Here goes. Heeeeeere goes,” Stiles worked himself up. “I’m probably, um, a little bit bisexual.”

His dad groped blindly for a kitchen chair and managed to fall into it. Stiles’ face twisted nervously, waiting for an answer. “When... are you... sure?”

“Um... pretty sure. Yeah, I think... okay, yes, definitely sure.” He held his breath.

“So you’ve... been out with... a boy?” his dad managed. He looked overwhelmed. Stiles FELT overwhelmed.

“Well, not out.”

“So you’ve been IN with a boy?” his dad supplied, his voice raising an octave.

“I haven’t been ANYTHING with a boy,” Stiles lied. And well, it was sort of true. Derek wasn’t a BOY... “But. I like boys. I like girls, too!” he rushed out, thinking it might calm his dad’s nerves. “But yes. Also boys. I like them.” This might be the worst conversation he’d ever had with anyone ever.

His dad slumped back in the chair and Stiles winced. “I just. It’s a lot to take in,” his dad admitted.

“Tell me about it, because it’s kind of been a wild ride for me, too,” Stiles muttered.

His dad looked up. “I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t easy on you either. I just. Out of left field, Stiles.”

The phrase swinging for both teams popped into Stiles’ head and he had to resist the urge to laugh hysterically. “I should have told you, or-”

“Stiles. You know I love you. No matter what. And this has nothing to do with... what you just told me. But you’re grounded for the rest of the weekend.”

“What? How is that-”

“Not because of what you told me, I just said that. Because you were out all night. Without explanation. And... maybe with a boy, which is fine, but you shouldn’t be out with ANYONE all night. You’re 17.”

Stiles huffed out a sigh. “Fine. Okay. You’re right.” He cleared his throat. “But... we’re okay, right? About the...”

His dad got up and hugged him suddenly. Stiles sighed in relief, hugging back. “Always,” his dad said. “We’re always okay. Now, go to your room and act punished.”

Stiles chuckled and pulled back, heading for the stairs. “Can do.”

His phone was sitting on his desk in his room and he immediately texted Derek. _grounded. can’t come back til wknd over_ He thought about saying sorry, but that made it seem like it was a big deal if Stiles was there, and he wasn’t going to assume that.

Although what had happened sort of seemed like a big deal, between the sleep walking and... what happened in the shower. Stiles powered up his laptop. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any information about werewolf bonds on the internet, but it didn’t hurt to check.

When he’d managed to get all of the porn pop-ups under control about werewolf bondage, Stiles gave up. He’d just have to ask Deaton, when he wasn’t grounded anymore.

~

Stiles spent the rest of the day trying not to over think the Derek situation, and ignoring Scott’s texts about werewolf heat cycles. He did his homework, played video games, and generally tried to waste time on the internet. This was going to be a long weekend.

Derek never texted him back, which he tried to not worry about. He was probably just sleeping, getting his strength back. It wasn’t like Derek was his boyfriend, and he wasn’t going to be the needy one here.

It took him a while to finally fall asleep that night, but it was a deep and restful sleep once he did. He woke up in the middle of the night, groggy and overheated. There was someone pressed against his back and a chill ran up his spine.

“Derek?” Stiles asked cautiously. Derek purred against his neck, his arm wrapping around Stiles and tightening. “What are you doing here?” Stiles hissed. “My dad is home, he could-”

“I’ll hear if he wakes up,” Derek whispered. His hand trailed down Stiles’ belly, and he squeezed Stiles’ hard on through his pajama pants.

“You can’t - we can’t - I mean, what are you DOING here?”

Derek paused his actions, brow furrowing against the back of Stiles’ neck. “I... I’m not...”

“You sleep walked, didn’t you? Just like I did?” Stiles tried to turn to face Derek, but he was pinned by Derek’s arms. “So what was it? The bond? Your... heat... thing?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said solemnly. “Do you want me to go?”

That was a tough one. If his dad heard them, found them, there would be so much trouble. Not only was Stiles grounded, but he was getting spooned under his father’s roof. By a dude. An older dude. An older dude that he had personally claimed was a murderer and had arrested. Twice.

Trouble didn’t cover it. They’d be dead.

On the other hand, there was Derek’s actual hand, that was resuming its touching. Derek pressed his palm over Stiles’ cock and Stiles whimpered as quietly as he could.

“Shhh,” Derek hushed him.

“I’m trying! But, I mean... have you ever KNOWN me to be quiet? Ever?”

Derek’s chest rumbled against his back in a laugh, and Stiles had to take a minute to realize he was making Derek laugh. That Derek hadn’t threatened him or scowled at him seriously in at least a month. And now he was laughing. Stiles felt secretly very proud.

“I can help with that.” Derek whispered, using his other hand to gently cover Stiles’ mouth. He took his hand away from Stiles’ dick just long enough to pull Stiles’ pants down to his knees.

Derek was naked behind him, and hard, and he pressed right up against Stiles’ ass. His cock was slick with pre cum and it made Stiles shudder. The sound of Derek’s name was muffled against Derek’s hand. Derek ran his tongue from Stiles’ shoulder to his ear, then bit his way lightly back down the trail. Stiles rocked forward into Derek’s fist, then back against his cock. Derek shifted, pressing himself between Stiles’ cheeks. Stiles froze.

“I’m not going to, I swear. I wouldn’t hurt you. Do you trust me?” Derek whispered into the shell of Stiles’ ear. 

Stiles hesitated for a second; did he trust Derek? They had always said they DIDN’T trust each other, but Stiles realized that now... he kind of did. He knew Derek would protect him, and for all his threats and shoving Stiles around, he knew he wouldn’t hurt him. Stiles nodded finally, and Derek took the consent right away, pushing their bodies closer.

Derek hissed and moaned a little, and Stiles just prayed to whatever gods might exist that his dad didn’t hear it. Because he was so hard, and Derek’s hand was doing some amazing work on his dick, and Derek’s cock pressed so close, just a shade away from all the way, that Stiles did NOT want to be interrupted. He really just wanted to come. He wanted Derek to come. He wanted Derek to fuck him, even if he knew he probably wasn’t ready for that. He wanted it.

Maybe Derek could smell that all over him, because he rumbled lowly against Stiles’ neck, “I know. And we will. Soon. You don’t know how hard it is for me... to hold back. I want to. Just as much as you do, and it drives me crazy, smelling that want all over you. Makes it harder to wait.” Derek was thrusting against him, stroking him, as he spoke. “I want... You were so tight, Stiles. In the shower. I bet I’m going to come so fast when I fuck you. But then I’m going to do it again, and again. I want you to be used to me.”

Stiles’ moan was caught against Derek’s skin, and he gasped when Derek pulled his hand off his hard on.

“Shh, don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you, just let me...” Derek reached back, and Stiles heard the pop of a bottle opening. And then there was cold wetness on Stiles’ ass, and Derek’s hand was slick when he touched Stiles again.

“Oh God,” Stiles said as Derek slid against him, tugged on his cock. The pace was slow and Stiles felt like he couldn’t breathe, felt like he was going to shake apart. “Please,” he tried, pushing back hard against Derek.

Derek’s breathing hitched and he growled. “Stiles, you should hold still,” Derek whispered between clenched teeth. Stiles pressed his hips back again. “Stiles, I can’t...”

“Derek, come on, please,” Stiles whined, and even though it was muffled, he knew Derek heard him.

“If you don’t stop,” Derek bit out, “you’re gonna make me come.”

Stiles bucked forward at that. God, he couldn’t believe that he had any control over Derek, and hearing that? So hot. So fucking hot. “That’s kind of the point,” he said.

“You first,” Derek whispered. He kept a steady pace of rubbing against Stiles, but his hand on Stiles’ dick sped up, his thumb rubbing over the head. “Come on, Stiles. Come for me,” Derek hummed.

“Fuck, fuck!” Stiles tried to whisper, but it was a broken moan barely muffled by Derek’s hand. Stiles was coming, shaking against Derek’s body. Then he felt Derek come, hot and wet on his back, on his ass, making the slide sloppier, making Derek falter.

Derek moved his hands away, but kept his arms around Stiles. He was panting against Stiles’ neck, his chest heaving into Stiles’ back. Derek let him turn this time, so they were facing each other. Stiles was a little shocked when Derek moved forward and kissed him. Just a press of his lips, then a few quick swipes of his tongue into Stiles’ mouth. It was the first time they’d kissed that night.

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck. “I should go.”

“Probably.” That made it definitely feel like a booty call, but it wasn’t like Derek could stay with Stiles’ dad in the house.

“Why are you grounded?” Derek whispered, smirking.

“My dad didn’t take too kindly to me taking off in the middle of the night.”

“Right.”

“Like he won’t take too kindly to finding you here,” Stiles said. He didn’t want to make Derek leave, but he knew he had to. Plus, he still wasn’t going to be needy here. He wasn’t a little girl.

Derek frowned for a split second, but it was so brief Stiles thought maybe he’d imagined it. He seemed stiff and awkward as he dressed and went to the window.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said.

“Well, it’s not like you did it on purpose,” Stiles admitted, shrugging.

“Yeah.” Derek hesitated. “If you don’t want me to-”

“No, let’s... not. Again. Clearly, I want you. That’s... pretty obvious. And you want me, which is frankly baffling. It’s just... with the bond, and the heat, I don’t know how much of it is real and-” Derek stopped his whispered rambling with a hard, demanding kiss. He knelt on the bed next to where Stiles was sitting, cupping his face gently.

“Stop underestimating yourself. I can’t... promise that the bond doesn’t effect it. And I know the heat thing is weird and confusing for you, but it won’t always be like this. Not once... I mean, if we regularly were...”

Stiles sat there staring, mouth open in shock, thinking about regular sex with Derek. Did that mean a relationship with Derek? Would Derek be, like, his boyfriend? Could Stiles really have a boyfriend?

“I should go. Your dad is getting restless,” Derek whispered, pressing back up onto his feet and stopping in the window. “Goodnight, Stiles.” Derek slipped out onto the roof, then was gone.

Stiles was confused, and a little overwhelmed. And very, very sticky. He wanted to go back to sleep, but knew a shower was in order first. He’d talk to Deaton Monday about the bond, and until then, there really wasn’t a point to analyzing his feelings. Since it was possible they were nothing. Because he sort of felt like he was falling in love with Derek Hale. And that was sort of terrifying.


	6. Matters of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stiles, I think you’ve been able to do something no one else has in a very long time.”
> 
> “Yeah, and what’s that?” Stiles muttered.
> 
> “See that Derek Hale does, in fact, have a heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is, shockingly, no porn in this section! But there are some explanations, and some feels, a lot of Stilinski feels. Sorry, I was watching Co-Captain when I wrote it.

Stiles went with Scott to work after school on Monday so he could talk to Deaton. He needed answers about what was going on between him and Derek. Derek hadn’t been back to his house, hadn’t texted. Stiles tried not to look into it; it was only a day without communication, it didn’t mean anything.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton greeted him when he trailed into the clinic behind Scott. “What brings you in?”

Stiles approached him, standing over the table in the center of the room. The table he’d been dying on less than a week ago. Where Derek had saved his life. “I just... had some questions. About the other night.”

Deaton smiled and nodded, “I figured you might.”

“I’m just... gonna go clean the cat cages,” Scott excused himself, smiling encouragingly at Stiles. He slipped back into the kennel room.

“So,” Deaton began, flipping though a medical file. “What did you want to know?”

“It’s about... what happened with Derek. With him saving me. And what might have happened because of it.” Stiles nervously scratched the back of his neck, and his face felt flushed. What did Deaton know about him and Derek anyway already?

“Well, anytime mythical powers are used in healing, there’s always a chance there could be certain side effects.” Deaton closed the chart he had been writing in and opened another. “Depending on the nature of the previous relationship.”

Stiles definitely blushed that time. “The nature of the relationship. Right.”

“If there is no previous connection, there is very little chance anything will happen.”

“What if the relationship is... destructive?”

Deaton looked up, smiling. “But that doesn’t apply here, does it?”

“I - I don’t-”

“If there relationship is volatile, it can cause more disdain, even a rivalry. But that’s not what happened with you an Derek, is it?”

Stiles’ mouth fell open, but he wasn’t sure how much information he felt comfortable telling Deaton about his sex life. “Not... exactly.”

“The bond you had strengthened.”

“Look, I walked half naked in the woods in my sleep to get to his house, okay?” Stiles blurted. He needed answers; this was no time for modesty.

Deaton did his best to hide his smirk. “I hate to tell you, Mr. Stilinski, but it was fairly obvious to me the night they brought you in.”

“Wh- how?”

“Even if I hadn’t been able to tell just from Derek’s actions, he’d marked you.”

Stiles was confused, but then he remembered, eyes going wide. “The hickey? That’s why he gave me that?”

Deaton chuckled. “It didn’t mark you with anything supernatural. It was just a hickey, as you called it. But it was clear to me who it was from. And it would be most likely clear to anything that did have supernatural powers. They would be able to smell the claim.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, scoffing. “What is it with creatures of the night and sniffing everything? And anyway, who said he was allowed to do that?”

“I think he was probably trying to protect you from the Huli Jing, Stiles.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped. “Oh.”

“Indeed.”

“Okay, so this bond thing, what does it mean? I mean, for uh... us. Derek and me.” He was blushing furiously again.

“So far you’ve noticed the side effect of wanting to be near to each other. Anything else?” Deaton started on a new chart.

“I... um... I’m not sure if...”

“It will be easier for me to help you if I have all the information.”

Stiles cleared his throat. “There has been... I mean, we’ve... been... um... a lot. You know what I mean?”

Deaton raised an eyebrow. “I think I can guess.”

“Anyway, I don’t know if it’s the bond or a heat cycle or-”

“Ah, already versed in heat cycles, are we? I think it’s possible you might know more about werewolves than Scott.”

“Well, I AM pretty invested in the research,” Stiles said proudly.

“But heat cycles only happen a few times a year for an adult werewolf.”

“A few times a year? So... not like... monthly?”

Deaton’s brow furrowed. “Has it happened recently before?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of how... anyway, yes.”

“Then it’s either the bond, or...” Deaton trailed off, frowning.

“Or what?” Stiles asked eagerly.

“Or it’s nothing. Nothing being that it’s the natural process of a werewolf declaring a mate.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, declaring a mate? He can’t just DECLARE and expect-”

“You’re right, he can’t,” Deaton interrupted quietly. “The mate has to be willing, has to have a connection.”

“But that connection could be caused by the bond?”

“It’s possible, I suppose. But unlikely. There was already a bond there, remember. And the pills I gave Derek should have absolved any lingering effects-”

“Wait, the pills? He told me those were just to help him heal!” Stiles exclaimed.

Deaton looked thoughtful. “Did he? Well, that was part of it. But there were some elements to it to help with any possible side effects. Wiggentree root, castor oil...”

“And he asked to take the pills?”

“I suspect he was concerned about the same things you are.”

“So he didn’t want there to be a bond?”

Deaton looked him directly in the eyes. “I would imagine that he wanted to be sure that the bond that was created was real, and not something mythical. And I also would guess that you’re worried about the exact same thing.”

“So... how would I know what caused the... what’s happening?” Stiles crossed his arms across his chest, shifting his weight. He was sure Deaton thought he was such an idiot, mooning (ha, mooning) over a werewolf.

“I believe that the sleep walking you both experienced was a lingering effect. But the feelings you have? Only you can be sure of that.”

Stiles sighed heavily. “What if I’m not? And, what do you mean we BOTH experienced? How did you know Derek did it, too?”

“He came to me yesterday. I told him what I’m telling you now. Stiles, I think you’ve been able to do something no one else has in a very long time.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” Stiles muttered.

“See that Derek Hale does, in fact, have a heart.” Stiles rolled his eyes a little, but Deaton continued. “Derek hasn’t been able to trust anyone in a very long time, not since he was betrayed and his family died.”

“Betrayed? What, you mean Kate? How did she betray...” Stiles trailed off. Oh. Oh shit. Derek and... Kate?

“Ah. I see he didn’t tell you. He hasn’t told anyone, then, I expect.”

“How do you know?” Stiles asked slowly.

“I’ve been a friend of the Hale family for a very long time. It’s been my place to help them when I can, and I made a promise to help Derek especially. So I’m going to tell you, I think Derek might need you more than you realize. Maybe more than he does, as well.”

Stiles slumped, backing up to lean against the cabinets. “No pressure, or anything.”

Deaton smiled. “No. You could walk away, and he would be all right, inevitably. And if that’s what you want to do, that’s what you should do. I don’t believe in fate, Stiles. I’m a man of science. But this other world that you and I live in, as mortals? Sometimes I feel there IS something bigger going on, something I can’t label or define. I don’t think it should control us, but I do think it’s worth considering.”

Scott edged into the room, looking bashful. Stiles wondered how much he’d heard. “Anything else you need me to take care of tonight, boss?”

“Did you restock the exam rooms down the hall?”

“Yeah.”

Deaton smiled fondly. “I think I’ve got it here, thank you Scott. You boys head on home.”

“Thanks. For... everything,” Stiles said. He and Scott moved to the front door, slipping outside and into Stiles’ jeep.

Once inside, Stiles asked, “So... how much did you hear?”

Scott looked uncomfortable. “Not much. Just the end part.”

“What, about Derek and I being werewolf soul mates, or whatever?” Stiles spat bitterly, pulled the jeep roughly out of the parking lot.

“Dude, what’s up? I thought you liked Derek?”

“I just... of course it couldn’t be normal. It couldn’t be that someone just... finally was in to me. It has to be some mythical bullshit-”

“Stiles, I don’t think that’s it at all.” Stiles glared at him. “Dude, hear me out. I think something had to be there in the first place. Or else that just means that Allison doesn’t love me either.” Scott was quiet suddenly.

“No, come on. Scott, Allison totally loves you, and you love her!”

“So why would it have to be different for you and Derek?”

“Okay, Derek certainly doesn’t LOVE me, and I don’t...”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “You don’t? You sure about that?”

“Scott-”

“Are you in love with Derek?” Scott asked again.

“I don’t...”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, relax,” Scott said calmly. “I’m asking you, as your best friend, who cares about you, if you love Derek?”

Stiles heaved a sigh and tipped his head up briefly. “I don’t know. And I don’t think it matters, because, like, Derek? In love? Come on, like that would even be a thing. And if it was, me?”

“I’ve seen how he is around you. I mean, even before all this, he protected you all the time. You guys pretty much took turns saving each other’s asses.”

“So he occasionally is a decent person. But I’m not sure-”

“Stiles, seriously. I think he could totally be in love with you. Even if it is, like, creepy stalker werewolf love.”

“I’m kind of the master of unrequited love. Remember Lydia Martin? Epic decade long crush that was never returned?”

Scott turned to face Stiles as they pulled up at a red light and he gripped Stiles’ shoulder. “You also never hooked up with Lydia. I think it’s safe to say this is different.”

“I appreciate what you’re doing here, I really do. But between heat cycles and mythical spells and shit, I’m not totally ready to put any money on it. Okay?”

Scott made a resigned face. “Fine. But I’m just saying... don’t count him out yet, okay?”

“Dude, why do you care so much about this?” Stiles pulled away from the intersection toward Scott’s house. “You don’t even LIKE Derek.”

“Like I said, you’re my best friend. I wanna see you happy.” He paused, then smiled deviously. “Plus, Derek is WAY less of a butthole when he’s got you around, or whatever you two get up to. And do not tell me!” Scott added quickly.

Stiles finally grinned back. “Fine. I won’t. But I’m not gonna get my hopes up, either.”

“So, what are you gonna do now?”

Stiles parked in front of Scott’s house. “I guess... I’ll go talk to Derek.”

“Do you need me to...” Scott trailed off.

Stiles shook his head. “Nah. Probably best to go it alone. I’m sure if Derek had an audience for this kind of thing, he’ll just shut down. I mean, that’ll probably happen anyway, but...”

“You can do this. Okay? You got this,” Scott said. “Good luck, lemme know if he maims you.”

“Very encouraging, thank you, Scott,” Stiles muttered as Scott got out of the jeep. Scott laughed and headed up the walk to his house.

Stiles took a deep breath. He was gonna do this. He was gonna do this now. Better do it before he lost his nerve. He thought about what he should say the whole car ride over. His palms were sweating. His stomach was lurching. This was going to be fourteen shades of awkward, of Stiles tripping over his words and probably pissing Derek off. He almost turned around and went home, but after calling himself a coward, aloud in the car at a light and earning some interesting looks, he finally made his way to the Hale house.

When Stiles got out of the Jeep, Erica was on the porch, watching him. She didn’t speak, just smirked as Stiles approached. “I’m here to see Derek.” He thought that sounded brave, maybe. Hopefully. 

Erica’s teeth bared when she smiled. “Sorry lover boy, but he’s not in right now. You’re more than welcome to leave a message with me though. If you like.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, thank you. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“He didn’t say,” Erica replied, sauntering down the steps to get right in his face.

“Do you know where he went?” Stiles was exasperated, and tired of Erica’s vixen act right now.

Erica shrugged. “Didn’t mention that either.”

“He’s your alpha! You don’t know anything?!”

Erica looked a little ashamed at that, and ha. Good. Served her right for being so cocky. “This is what he does, Stiles. I don’t know.”

Stiles felt a tiny bit crappy for her; clearly, she wanted to know what was going on, where Derek was. The alpha being gone made the pack insecure, he got that. “Okay, fine. If he comes back, will you let him know I’m looking for him?”

Erica actually looked a little sympathetic. “I will. He can’t be gone long.”

Stiles felt a little relieved, but he also felt angry on the drive home. He had been totally ready to face this, head on. Ask questions, maybe... tell Derek how he felt? Even if Derek laughed in his face, beat the shit out of him, whatever. He had no idea how long Derek would be gone, or why he left, or to where. He couldn’t deny the disappointment. 

Stiles’ dad was watching tv when he got home, and Stiles plopped down on the couch next to him. “Hey,” he said pathetically.

His dad muted the tv and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Stuff. Nothing.”

“Is it... guy stuff?” his dad asked, tentatively.

Stiles kept his eyes trained on the silent cooking show on the tv. He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wanna... talk about it?”

His dad was trying so hard, and Stiles didn’t want to shut him out. “I just... think I like a guy, and I don’t know if he likes me, and I don’t know what to do.”

“When I had my first crush, I felt the same way. But I knew I had to tell her, or wonder forever if she liked me.” Stiles nodded, turning to his dad, unfolding his arms. “Well, I couldn’t work up the nerve. She was way out of my league, I thought. So I ended up putting a note in her desk.”

“In her desk? How old were you?”

His dad smiled. “I was 7.”

“Okay, no offense, Dad, but I think this is a little different.”

“Let me finish. I left the note. But I never signed my name to it. I forgot, I guess, I was so nervous.” Stiles snorted out a laugh, and his dad smiled with him. “Anyway, she thought it was from this other guy, and they liked each other. So she got together with him.”

“Is... that supposed to make me feel better?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

“It’s supposed to teach you that, if you want something, go for it like a man. Face to face. Strong in your convictions.”

“You really think that will work?”

“Worked with your mom,” his dad said, nodding his head. Stiles smiled. “If you... like this guy, whatever you’re feeling, you need to get it out there. Otherwise, you never know. And knowing you were wrong about what you thought they felt doesn’t feel good. I learned that in high school. But that frees you up, for other things. And if you were right, well... being in love is pretty great.”

“Even if you lose it?” Stiles asked quietly, not meeting his dad’s eyes.

His dad placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Even then. Because it hurts, but otherwise you miss all the good stuff. Like having a family.”

Stiles looked up, his heart hurting at the loss of his mom. His shining eyes were mirrored in his dad’s.


	7. Face to Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles imagined his anger rolling off in waves, the smell of it choking any supernatural being within miles. He hoped Derek could smell it. He hoped it was suffocating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porn in this chapter either, but there's a lot of drama and angst!

It turned out that “not being gone that long,” as Erica had said, was longer than they thought. The pack was restless and uneasy, which made everything in Stiles’ life that way. Not to mention, his big plan of revealing what he thought he felt for Derek TO Derek was losing steam. It was hard to keep your confidence going for days on end. And besides, if Derek had felt similarly, would he have just left town for nearly a week?

Stiles reevaluated his course of action, in case Derek DID ever decide to come back. It wasn’t looking promising; Stiles had only sent one text, right after his talk with his dad: _need 2 talk. in person. lemme know_ He hadn’t gotten a reply.

Fridays were usually Stiles’ favorite day of the week, because they had a nice, long lacrosse practice after school. And then he got the weekend, which meant sleeping in and maybe doing something fun. This time he wasn’t enjoying it, because he knew it would be a full weekend of being alone with his thoughts, questioning everything that had happened. It seemed like a distant memory, a half remembered dream. His whole life felt different without Derek around, and that freaked him out. The pack felt disconnected, he felt disconnected. The alpha needed to come home.

Stiles was late to homeroom that morning, since he’d been so spaced out he’d forgotten to fill the Jeep’s tank the night before. He had to stop on the way in to school, then hit up the front desk for a late note. At least Harris wasn’t his homeroom teacher, he would have been in a world of shit then.

His usual seat in front of Scott was open, and he settled into his desk but couldn’t get his usual “touch base about wolf stuff” chat done with Scott. He had an uneasy feeling, like there was a new threat lurking right outside, and as the first class of the day drug on, he almost started to feel panicked. 

The second the bell rang, he turned to Scott and immediately asked, “What’s going on?”

Scott raised an eyebrow, confused. “What do you mean?”

“It just...” he lowered his voice as they stood up and exited the classroom. “It feels like something’s up. Weird energy, or... I dunno.”

“Did you talk to Derek?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Dude, I told you last week, he’s out of town or something.” Scott nervously pulled his lip into his mouth and gnawed on it, face squinting up. “You’re a horrible liar, and I don’t even have wolf senses. What?”

Scott took a deep breath and pushed it back out. “Derek got back last night. I thought you knew. I thought he’d probably...”

Stiles visibly deflated. “Well, I guess that answers a lot of questions right there.”

“I’m sure he just... wanted to settle in first, and then-”

“How did you know he was back?”

“Isaac told me this morning. We have a meeting tonight.”

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s all he said? Nothing else? Like, where Derek’s been all this time?”

Scott shook his head, and they started walking down the hall to their next class. “Derek didn’t say. So... what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles sighed. “But I have all day to think of something.”

~

The more Stiles thought about it, the angrier he got. It was NOT okay for Derek to go around messing with people, practically claiming them, and then to just stop communicating. If Derek wanted to end whatever it was they had been doing, he could man up and tell Stiles. Ignoring the problem until it went away was definitely a technique Stiles was familiar with, but that didn’t make it a good one.

All the anger was great for lacrosse practice, when Stiles plowed through four guys to get to the goal and whipped the ball furiously passed Danny. Even the showering of compliments couldn’t cool him down, and he wondered if this was how Scott felt right before wolfing out and trying to murder someone.

Scott wasn’t always the most intuitive, especially when he was dealing with someone other than Allison, but he seemed almost afraid of Stiles. Stiles imagined his anger rolling off in waves, the smell of it choking any supernatural being within miles. He hoped Derek could smell it. He hoped it was suffocating.

“If I didn’t know better,” Isaac began, leaning against Stiles’ locker as he threw his gear at it, “I’d say you were bitten.” Stiles glared but said nothing. “But that’s not it, is it?”

“Shut it, Isaac.”

“Wow, someone’s feisty today,” Isaac teased.

“Seriously, back off.” This time it was Scott issuing the warning, and Isaac held his hands up in surrender.

“By all means. Don’t wanna upset the mate of the alpha.”

Stiles charged him, but had no chance to do anything because Scott was effortlessly holding him back. Isaac looked amused more than frightened, but he backed away and left Scott to deal with Stiles.

“Dude, you can’t kick his ass. You KNOW that. What’s wrong with you today?”

Stiles turned his look of disdain on Scott. “I can’t imagine why I could possibly be pissed, considering the fact that Derek is just apparently done with me now.” Scott tried to suppress an amused expression. “What?” Stiles spat.

“Nothing, I just... look, I just thought you would be more sad puppy when dumped. Not rage filled attack monster.”

“Dumped?” Stiles laughed bitterly. “Implying that there was actually anything THERE to begin with?”

Scott looked sheepish. “I didn’t mean... I’m sorry, dude.”

Stiles sighed. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t get mad at you just because Derek is a freakin’ jerk off who can’t be man enough to just end this to my face.”

“What are you going to do?”

Stiles changed out of his jersey, cramming it into his locker with his pads and forcing the door shut. “When’s the pack meeting?”

“Later, I think. Like, eight?”

“I’m gonna talk to him. Before anyone else gets there. Make him end it, get the answers I need to have it be done. Move on.”

“What if he wasn’t planning on ending it?”

Stiles snorted. “Oh please, Scott. He’s avoiding me because he has GOOD news?” Scott nodded in concession. “I’m going over there right now.”

Scott took Stiles’ shoulders in both hands, giving him a little shake as if to instill confidence. “Good luck. Text me later, especially if he gets pissed and you’re in mortal peril.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

~ 

The drive into the woods was a blur, possibly partially because Stiles was speeding. The Jeep screeched to a halt on Derek’s property and Stiles leapt out, nerves and anger fighting for space in him. He bounded up the crumbling stairs and knocked loudly on the door. 

“Derek, I know you’re back. Why don’t you stop hiding from me and let’s get this over with.” When the door didn’t open, Stiles backed down the stairs so he could glance around the sides of the house, into the woods. No sign of Derek, but when he turned back to the door, Derek was standing there.

“Oh my god! You scared the hell out of me.”

“What do you want?”

Stiles bristled, anger bubbling up under the surface. “What do _I_ want? I’m surprised you give a shit enough to ask. Since you didn’t bother telling me where you went, or for how long, or that you were back.”

Derek jumped off the porch and took a few steps toward Stiles, but was still out of reach. “I had something to take care of.”

Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Ah, so we’re back to this, then? Great. Well, I just thought I’d drop by so you’d have the pleasure of seeing my face when you cut me out.”

Derek looked taken aback; maybe by Stiles’ boldness, or the obvious fury. He mastered his features back into their usual grimace. “Do I even need to say it since you have it all figured out?”

“You could grow a pair and try,” Stiles shot back.

Derek grinned menacingly, taking one step closer. If Stiles reached out, he might have been able to graze him with his finger tips. “It’s over, Stiles.”

Even though Stiles knew it was coming, had asked for it, the sting was still there. “Would you mind telling me what I did to fuck this up?”

Derek’s face twisted a little, but then went stony again. He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s just not a good idea. You know that. We both have, from the beginning.”

“Did we?” The anger was boiling off, the hurt settling in. There was no more power behind him now, he felt like he was going to faint.

“Look at the facts! Look how this all started! Out of you doing something you NEVER should have, and me letting you. And then then bond, and... it just isn’t right.” 

Even though Derek sounded convincing, Stiles couldn’t help but questioning it. “You don't believe that.”

“Stiles, I do. And you have to.”

“Where did you go?”

“I told you, there was something-”

“Why bother lying to me? I’m not anything to you, you don’t have to worry about keeping secrets.”

“I just had to see someone. For answers.”

The rage was building again. “About us?” Stiles asked.

“I needed to talk to someone who might know more about this stuff than I do,” Derek admitted.

Stiles was hit with the epiphany. The thought almost made him stumble. “You went to see Peter, didn’t you?”

Derek nodded jerkily and couldn’t meet Stiles’ eyes.

“You went to your murdering, psychopathic, ex alpha uncle for answers? About us?” No one had known Peter’s intentions when he had Lydia bring him back, and they still didn’t. But he had agreed to move North, to lay low, to stay out of their way. And now Derek was seeking him out for help?

“Stiles, he’s the only person I know who might be able to give me information-”

“And I’m sure he was SO accepting of you being with someone who wasn’t a wolf. Especially after Kate.” Stiles immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. Shit. Shit shit shit.

Derek looked like he’d been slapped in the face, but quickly glared at Stiles instead, closing the distance between them. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t-”

“Who told you?” It was a vicious question, loaded with threats.

“I really don’t know anything-”

Derek smirked. “It was Deaton, wasn’t it?”

“He didn’t really tell me anything,” Stiles tried, wanting to back away but not wanting to lose ground.

“But you’re a clever boy, aren’t you? You put it all together. About how she tricked me, and I ended up getting my entire family murdered.”

“Derek-”

“Who else did you tell? Huh? Did you tell Scott? I bet you couldn’t wait-”

“I didn’t tell anyone! You know I’m not lying about that. You - you can tell.”

“What I can’t tell is why you’d want to be with a monster like that, anyway,” Derek growled. Stiles faltered but didn’t back off.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Derek scoffed. “Oh, wasn’t it? I was so easily lead, and she did it flawlessly. If I had just used any of my senses, thought it through, ignored my dick, they’d still be alive.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known-”

“I could have!” Derek shouted, his voice echoing off the trees, making Stiles flinch. “And I can’t afford to have it happen again.”

Realization hit Stiles suddenly. “I wouldn’t DO anything like that, you know that.”

“Shut up.”

“And I know that you feel-”

“Shut. Up.” 

“Dammit Derek, I’m NOT Kate!”

Derek shoved him hard, and Stiles fell back, his ass and head both cracking against the ground. It hurt like hell and was dizzying, and the look of concern barely ghosted across Derek’s face before Stiles could be sure of yup, fangs, and red eyes.

“Stay away from me. Get it? I don’t want to see you around here anymore.” Derek was leaning over him, fuming, snarling. Then he was gone in seconds. Stiles sat up, his head spinning and aching. He pressed his palm to it and glanced carefully around, but there was no sign of Derek at all.


	8. About Two Billion Songs Written About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings sucked, being in love sucked. He remembered telling Scott that having been with someone and losing them was better than being alone. Clearly, he had no idea what he had been talking about. This was a new form of misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, there will be porn again. I just have all the Derek Feels and I need somewhere to put them, okay?

“Dude, you were supposed to TELL ME if you were in mortal peril!” Scott shouted after getting one look at Stiles. Stiles flinched; his head hurt, and the yelling wasn’t helping.

“It’s not that bad,” Stiles brushed him off, moving Scott’s hand away from the goose egg bump on the back of his head. It wasn’t, really. It hurt a hell of a lot less than the deep ache in his chest. Scott continued to fuss over him, insisting on getting an ice pack at least.

“So, it’s over, huh?” Scott asked quietly.

“He made it pretty clear he didn’t want me around, so...”

“So you’re giving up?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open and he glared at Scott. “Dude, really? What am I supposed to do? He pushed me away - literally - and I’m not going to keep going after something he really doesn’t want. I’m gonna let it go, move on, yanno?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Stiles, I’m not going to pretend I’m like, an expert at this or anything. But what if I had just given up on Allison when we were taking a break?”

“She dumped you,” Stiles corrected.

Scott gave Stiles a reproachful look. “Fine. But what if I had? Sometimes you gotta fight for things you want, yanno?”

“Yeah, but Allison was actually in love with you at some point.”

Scott snorted. “And you don’t think Derek was in love with you?”

“What evidence is there of that?” Stiles muttered.

“I don’t know, I kind of recall a lot of hooking up and, oh yeah, he saved your life!”

Stiles sighed heavily. “Look, remember when Allison dumped you, and I did my best friend duty of getting you drunk?”

“I never got drunk. You got drunk.”

“Let’s not argue semantics here, can you please just return the favor? Please?”

“You know I will. My mom’s got some rum in the liquor cabinet she never drinks, lemme go get it.”

Scott was a good friend. Stiles took the ice pack away from his head, and yeah, okay, that did feel better. He wondered if somehow he could put it on his broken heart. Because yes, he had been in love with Derek, even though that was obviously stupid and reckless. He should have known it would end this way, because it was Derek, and Derek was always alone. Even with the pack, he kept everyone at a distance. Like he was afraid of losing his family all over again.

And Stiles could understand that. Boy, could he. After losing his mom, he didn’t want to be close to anyone but his dad. Even his friendship with Scott had been strained a little, and they’d known each other since they were four. But Stiles had gotten over that, had accepted that was life and he finally let people back in. Holding them at arms length wasn’t going to bring her back.

Scott pushed the door open, triumphantly holding the bottle in one hand. “All right buddy. Let the healing begin!”

~

Stiles had a hangover. He was 100% sure of that. His head ached even more than it had after he’d hit it, and his stomach was lurching every time he moved. He opened his eyes slowly, fearing any sunlight might actually split his head in half, but it was dark. He slowly (very slowly, he felt like the bed was spinning) looked around to discover he was in his own room. Scott must have brought him home. Scott was awesome.

Stiles crawled out of bed and eased down the hall to the bathroom. The house was quiet, so his dad must have been at work already. Had Scott brought him back when his dad was still here? He couldn’t remember, everything was a blur. He didn’t even know what time it was, but it was late enough that it was dark outside.

Stiles’ stomach clenched and he dropped down in front of the toilet, vomiting while he rested his arm across the bowl. How was this actually supposed to make you feel better? His heart still hurt, and now his body was turning inside out. Feelings sucked, being in love sucked. He remembered telling Scott that having been with someone and losing them was better than being alone. Clearly, he had no idea what he had been talking about. This was a new form of misery. He felt crushed, totally rejected, and hollow. Over Derek Hale. Which was dumb, because Derek was a huge jerk.

Stiles got to his feet shakily and started the shower. He felt a little better after puking, but his head was still pounding out a solid rhythm. He took some Advil from the medicine cabinet and drank the whole glass of water he’d gotten from the tap. He stripped, then stepped carefully into the shower, not trusting his brain because things were still kind of spinning. The shower helped, though. Cleared his head, was somehow comforting. He ended up sitting down in the spray, just letting it pour down on him until it got cold.

Stiles wrapped a towel around himself and went back to his room. He pulled on some pajama pants and crawled back into bed. 9pm on a Friday night and he was going back to bed, but he had to sleep this off. If he was asleep, he couldn’t think about Derek. Maybe that was the appeal of drinking through your heartbreak; you weren’t awake enough to experience it.

~

Stiles woke the next morning, and he felt better. His stomach wasn’t trying to escape his body, and his head only hurt a little, only where it had hit the ground. The goose egg was less swollen. That didn’t mean he felt like springing out of bed and greeting the morning. In fact, he didn’t feel like getting out of bed at all. So he didn’t. 

His phone chimed from his night stand, and he tried to repress the hope that it was Derek, declaring what an idiot he was and asking Stiles to come back. It was a text from Scott.

_u feeling ok? was worried_

Stiles texted back, _fine. hangover gone_

When his phone chimed a minute later, it was Scott again. _anything from derek?_

Stiles typed back a simple _no_ and left it at that.

He laid there and tried to think of anything else but how crappy he felt, but that wasn’t working. He opened his Word With Friends app and, thankfully, Allison was on and more than willing to distract him. He knew Scott must have told her already, and if the two hour marathon of the game was any indicator, she was being an amazing friend.

God dammit Scott was so lucky.

Allison had to do some training with her dad, and she texted Stiles as much, apologizing for having to go. Stiles got up to pee and then retreated right back to his room. His dad must have heard, must have been waiting for some sign of life, because there was a soft knock on his door a few moments after he had climbed back into bed.

“Come in,” Stiles mumbled, and his dad stepped into his room, looking like he was trying to take up as little space as possible as to not upset Stiles.

“So. You’re alive.”

“Barely,” Stiles answered.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” his dad asked, crossing the room to sit on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

“How long until the part where I move on?” Stiles asked pathetically. His dad placed a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, Kiddo. Anything I can do?”

“Nah,” Stiles started, and his dad stood. “Wait. Can I... can I ask you some questions about the Hale fire?”

His dad looked puzzled, then slightly horrified. “Oh crap.”

“What?”

“It’s Derek, isn’t it? Derek Hale? He’s the... the guy.”

“He was exonerated!” Stiles volunteered quickly.

His dad sighed. “He’s also a bit older than you, isn’t he?” Stiles opened his mouth the reply, but instead just looked pathetically at his dad. “All right. What do you want to know?”

“I wanna know where Derek was when it happened. I wanna know how he found out.”

His dad sat back down. “He and his sister were in school. The house was pretty burned when the fire truck got there, there wasn’t much to save. The fire had started in the basement, and that’s where we found... well...”

“His family.”

“Yeah,” his dad said uneasily. “There were so many people that had been down there. At the time, we thought they had been trapped somehow. But after the break in the case, about Kate Argent... now we know they were locked down there. What we don’t know is why Kate did it.” It seemed to Stiles this question STILL plagued his dad, and Stiles wished he could tell him somehow, without endangering the pack, but he knew he couldn’t.

“So who told them what had happened? Derek and Laura, I mean?”

“I did,” his dad said, looking pained, like he probably had that day. “We went to the school and had them removed from class, brought to the Principle’s Office. Then I told them.”

Stiles hesitated for a second. “How did they... what happened?”

“Stiles... you know this stuff. You know how you felt... when your mom...”

Stiles flinched. He hadn’t meant to make this difficult on his dad. “Yeah, I... I remember.”

“And this was after your mom, so... I’d be lying if I said it didn’t rip me up, to have to watch these kids lose their entire family. Laura was 18, she was appointed caretaker of Derek. They never went back to school. After the case was determined to be an accident, they were free to leave the state, and they did. Why are you asking me about this stuff?”

“I think Derek... doesn’t want me around, because of it,” Stiles admitted.

“I can understand that. After losing everyone close to him, of being accused of killing Laura, the only family he had left. Accused of all those other murders - by you and Scott, might I add - I can see-”

“Hey, I didn’t KNOW Derek very well back then, how was I supposed to know he was innocent? Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna turn him in again-”

“That’s not what I meant, Stiles,” his dad interrupted. “I mean, can you blame the guy for not wanting to get close to anyone when everyone he’s ever cared about has been killed?”

Stiles’ jaw dropped. Derek wasn’t worried that Stiles was like Kate, that he’d betray him. He was worried that if Stiles got too close, he’d be killed. “Whoa.”

“Whoa is right. So maybe cut the guy some slack. And... I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe give it another chance. Knowing what you know now.” His dad patted his leg through the sheets and got up. “Okay?”

“Okay.” His dad was almost through the door when Stiles stopped him. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Um... thanks. For... the advice.”

His dad smiled warmly and closed the door behind him.

~

School on Monday was tense, because, once again, every pack member knew exactly what was going on in Stiles’ life. Clearly. He did a fairly good job of dodging them, except Scott and Allison who were being amazing. They didn’t mention Derek’s name once, and even tried to buffer him from Jackson, who was dying to say something horrible to him, he assumed. Jackson was probably loving this, the douche.

Which is why it surprised Stiles when the pack converged on him at lunch and Jackson was the first to say, “You’ve got to fix this with Derek.”

Stiles stared at him for a few seconds. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know what you did-”

“What I did?” Stiles shouted, his voice a few octaves higher than normal.

“Okay look. I don’t know what happened, and-” Stiles tried to interrupt, but Jackson spoke over him, “I don’t care. But you need to fix it.”

“Look, Jackson, I appreciate your concern, which is clearly somehow only for yourself, but he doesn’t want me around. He made that pretty clear.”

Jackson smirked, huffing out a breath. “Did he?”

Stiles’ brow furrowed, and Lydia was kind enough to stop Jackson from talking with a firm hand on his arm. “Stiles, he’s clearly miserable,” she said.

Stiles scoffed. “How do you think I feel? I was all systems go for this, and he shut it down.”

“You know what’s worse than normal, cranky, alpha Derek?” Boyd asked. “Heartbroken, cranky, alpha Derek. It’s hard to even be in the same room as the guy.”

“Yeah, his brooding skills have reached an all time high,” Isaac agreed. “He won’t even hold pack meetings anymore, won’t let people visit him. He’s going all Howard Hughes on us.”

Stiles turned to Scott for back up, but Scott shrunk toward Allison and muttered, “It’s true, dude. You need to do something.”

“Really? Thanks for the help, Scott,” Stiles spat. “Well, luckily for you guys, I already have a plan.”

“You do?” Erica perked up, leaning forward. 

“Yeah, well... I got some good advice, about not giving up recently,” Stiles glanced at Scott, who looked very proud of himself, “and I’m gonna talk to him.”

“That’s your plan? To go... talk to him?” Jackson mocked. Everyone was staring at Stiles.

“What, you guys have a better plan?” Stiles asked them expectantly. The entire table muttered and looked away, but no one had anything to suggest. “Fine then. We go with my plan, of going to talk to him.”

“You really think that’s going to work?” Scott asked Stiles under his breath, even though half of the table could use their freaky hearing to listen in.

“I don’t know, Scott. But there’s not much else I can do.”

~

There was lacrosse practice after school, and Coach Finstock kept them late, especially Stiles, who had to do epic amounts of suicide runs for “daydreaming.” He thought his legs were going to fall off before Coach finally dismissed them. Scott had to rush to get to work, but Stiles took his time. He knew he needed to confront Derek tonight, or else Jackson would be on his case all week and that was something he was not prepared to deal with. He showered and dressed, carefully arranged the things in his locker. He checked his lacrosse stick for any frayed ends. He picked grass from his cleats.

“Stilinski, are you gonna do this or not?” Jackson gritted out, staring menacingly at Stiles.

“Yeah, I’m just-”

“Stalling. I can see that. If you don’t get over there soon, it’s going to be tomorrow before you make it.”

Stiles sighed heavily. “Yes, fine. I know. Thank you so much, Jackson. You’re a real help,” he said sarcastically. Jackson smirked, grabbed Stiles’ cleats, then threw them in the locker. Which he then slammed shut.

“Off you go, then.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed his backpack. When he made it out of the school, it was getting dark already. Maybe he had been taking his sweet time. Maybe he was nervous, afraid Derek would seriously kick his ass for not staying away like he was told. But knowing that Derek was only doing it to keep him safe brought some comfort, and some resolve, so he drove over to the Hale house.

Stiles had to talk himself out of the Jeep and onto the porch, but he’d made it. He was gonna do this, because he didn’t back down, dammit. Derek couldn’t scare him off like that. He raised his fist and pounded on Derek’s door.

There was no answer, but that wasn’t surprising. “Derek, come on. I know... I know you told me not to come here, but... we need to talk. I need to talk to you. Can you just... let me in?”

Stiles couldn’t hear anything inside, so he stepped off the porch, scanning the woods. He half expected Derek to appear, as usual, but he didn’t. Stiles climbed the steps again and tried the handle. The door swung open and he entered. It was dark, and Stiles flicked a switch near the door, bringing a little lamp to life. He walked farther into the house, peeking inside empty rooms. Derek’s bedroom door was shut, and Stiles knocked there, too.

“Derek, if you’re in there, I just wanted... I wanted to let you know, I know why you pushed me away, and... you’re kind of a dumbass, all right? Because you don’t need to worry about... come on, are you in there? I don’t wanna talk to your door, I wanna talk...” Stiles trailed off. He twisted the knob and the door opened, but Derek wasn’t there.

In fact, a lot of things were missing, and a lot of things were overturned and discarded. The room looked like it had been searched, ransacked. A chill shot up Stiles’ spine, his heart starting to pound. Derek was gone, someone had... someone had taken him, or hurt him, or... Someone had been here, tearing the place apart, and now Derek was gone. 

Panic overtook him and he stumbled back, leaning against walls for support as he pushed himself outside. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone and managed to call Scott.

“How’d it go?” Scott asked hesitantly.

“Scott, he’s not here. Something’s... something’s wrong, his stuff is all messed up. I think someone took him, or... I don’t know....”

“Whoa, slow down,” Scott said from the other end of the phone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not here, I mean his things are torn apart, I mean... something happened to him,” Stiles forced out. “We need to find him.”

“Stiles, get in your Jeep and stay put. I’m on my way.”

The line went dead.


	9. Love Makes You Do the Wacky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A million thoughts went through Stiles’ head in the split second it took him to follow Scott through the doorway. Would Derek be restrained, like Kate had done to him? Would he be hurt, bleeding, unconscious? Would he... Stiles couldn’t think about that. Scott would have know if Derek had been killed, right? He would have sensed it, or smelled it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda bummed I'm a chapter away from finishing this. Thanks to everyone who's been keeping up. Hopefully I'll have the last chapter up sooner than this one was.
> 
> ETA: Okay, there will be TWO more chapters. Apparently, I can't stop writing this fic. Oops. :)

“Do you have what you need to...” Stiles trailed off. He and Scott were standing in Derek’s overturned bedroom while Scott got Derek’s scent.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Scott answered.

“How long has it been since anyone’s seen him?”

Scott looked guilty. “That pack meeting, on Friday night. After you saw him.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “What? So he could have been missing for days?” Scott opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. Stiles gave him an exasperated look. “Let’s just hurry, we gotta find him.”

Scott trailed behind as Stiles marched out of the house and into his Jeep. Scott settled in the passenger’s seat and stuck his head out the window.

“Which way?” Stiles asked, turning over the ignition.

“Towards town.”

Stiles peeled out of the woods, causing Scott to have to grip the door tightly as to not fall out the window, but he didn’t dare correct Stiles’ driving. They didn’t speak except for Scott telling him to turn left or right. The trail lead them into a newer part of town, on the western edge of Beacon Hills.

“Here, stop. This is the place,” Scott said. Stiles pulled into a parking lot in front of large, brand new, upscale apartments.

“This is the place? He was abducted to The Hills?” Stiles asked doubtfully.

“This is where the scent is. Maybe he was abducted by, like, Dracula or something?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and got out of the Jeep, Scott following. “Vampires? Really?”

“Hey, demons and werewolves and lizard dudes, you never know,” Scott muttered defensively. Stiles let Scott lead them to one of the buildings. “This is the one. Okay, you let me go first, got it? We need to figure out what this thing that took him is before you run in there and get eaten or something.”

“Fine, fine.” Stiles pulled open the door and they were greeted by a doorman.

“Oh,” Scott said. Okay, they hadn’t planned for this.

“Visiting, I take it?” the doorman asked. He looked old and tired, Scott could probably take him. Then they could get to Derek. Okay, no, it wasn’t a great plan to knock out some poor guy trying to do his job. But they needed to get by.

“Yeah, we’re just here to see... Missester.... Johns...ville?” Stiles tried. That was clearly not anyone’s name. Ever. But maybe it would be close enough that the doorman would just let them go.

“Who?” he pressed, eyes narrowed. Maybe he was a little better at his job than Stiles had thought.

“Look, we’re just trying to find our friend,” Scott said.

The doorman smirked. “I’m sure you are, but our policies are very strict. If you have an actual name-” he eyed Stiles as he said that, “-I’d be happy to buzz someone for you.”

Stiles sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Come on, Scott. Let’s get out of here.”

Scott looked bewildered as they left the lobby and he grabbed Stiles by the sleeve and turned him once they were outside. “That’s it? Really? You’re going to give up? Derek is in there, maybe in trouble, and-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Stiles interrupted. “I’m not giving up. Follow me.” They edged around the side of the building, away from the front doors and the streetlights. Stiles pointed above their heads. “You’re going to climb your wolfy ass up to that fire escape, then lower it down for me. Then you’ll use your super human strength to break down a door or something. Got it?”

Scott looked temporarily scandalized and the thought of breaking and entering, but it hadn’t been their first time doing it. Scott nodded and took a few steps back, then took a running leap at the ladder tucked against the metal of the fire escape. He managed to pull it down, holding it while Stiles climbed up onto the platform. Scott followed quickly, letting the ladder fold up behind them, covering their tracks. There was a door there and Scott ran his shoulder into it, popping it open.

It revealed a back staircase, the fire exit, and no one was in sight. Scott took a second to sniff the air, and pointed up. Stiles nodded and Scott raced up the steps. Stiles stayed close behind, his heart starting to pound against his ribs. What would happen when they found Derek? Would he be hurt or... or worse? Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed on.

After three flights of stairs, Scott came to a halt. He paused, then nodded, quietly opening the door to the 5th floor. The hallway was bright compared to the stairs, and they both blinked as their eyes adjusted. Scott motioned for Stiles to follow him. They were definitely on the turf of some big shot, from the looks of this place. The carpet was plush under Stiles’ feet, the woodwork on the walls intricate, the apartment doors made of thick, solid mahogany. Maybe it _was_ Dracula.

Stiles ran into Scott’s back, since he’d been taking in his surroundings and not paying attention, and caused them both to stumble a bit. They were outside apartment 5F. Scott pressed his ear to the door.

“Anything?” Stiles whispered.

Scott shook his head. “He’s definitely in there, though. Okay, remember, I go first.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but conceded. Scott stepped back, took a running start at the door, and burst through it.

~

A million thoughts went through Stiles’ head in the split second it took him to follow Scott through the doorway. Would Derek be restrained, like Kate had done to him? Would he be hurt, bleeding, unconscious? Would he... Stiles couldn’t think about that. Scott would have know if Derek had been killed, right? He would have sensed it, or smelled it.

Stiles was through the entry way and ready to fight, and staring right at Derek. Derek, who was standing in the living room, folding a shirt.

Wait, what?

Stiles was confused, and when he looked at Scott, he saw the same expression mirrored back at him.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked incredulously.

“Laundry,” Derek deadpanned, plucking another shirt from the basket on the couch and folding it.

Stiles visibly deflated. His adrenaline was tapering into relief and he thought he might collapse.

“So you’re... not hurt?” Scott asked.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Why would I be hurt?”

“Because your house looks like it’s been looted and you weren’t there! God, you asshole!” Scott shouted. Both Stiles and Derek looked at him in shock. Stiles hadn’t thought about how this was affecting Scott, but he guessed losing track of your alpha was pretty disconcerting.

“I moved,” Derek answered plainly.

“You couldn’t bother telling anyone?” Derek’s eyes flicked to Stiles and he shrugged by way of answer. Stiles wanted to strangle him.

Scott must have sensed the anger coming off of Stiles, because he started edging toward the door. “I’ll just let... you two...”

“What? No!” Stiles protested, moving closer to the exit. Scott shoved him lightly away.

“Hey. Do your thing,” Scott whispered, even though they both knew Derek could hear him. Stiles glared, but Scott didn’t cave. “I’m going to run home now, no need for a ride. Good... wolf training, and all that... so... I’ll see you guys.” He gave Stiles an encouraging nod before he slipped out the door and shut it behind him.

Stiles refused to turn at first, feeling suddenly embarrassed that he was in Derek’s apartment at all. He’d totally overreacted, racing into potential danger that ended up being laundry day. This was not how he imagined this. He was supposed to show up, make his point, and have it be Derek’s move. Instead he’d flailed into Derek’s new place like a spazzy teenager (which he was), jumped to conclusions, and had his best friend clearly ditch him so he and Derek could have “the talk.”

Maybe he should just open that door and follow Scott through it, he thought. He was actually pulling the door open when Derek’s arm shot out, shoving it closed.

“This is kidnapping,” Stiles stated, hand still on the door knob, eyes still focused straight ahead.

“You came here,” Derek amended.

Stiles let out a breath and finally turned, pressing his back against the door to put more space between them. “This is... unlawful... restraint?”

Derek huffed out a barely noticeable laugh and dropped his eyes from Stiles, removing his hand from the door. “I’m not going to keep you here against your will.”

Stiles fidgeted. “What are you doing here? Besides... laundry.”

“I was going to tell everyone. I just needed a few days, and-”

“Tell everyone what?”

Derek met his eyes and said simply, “That I moved.”

“You... moved?” Stiles was confused, and he wasn’t sure why. People moved, it happened all the time. Generally, they told you to enlist your help with bribes of pizza, but it was totally normal. Except it didn’t seem normal for Derek. This seemed like a bigger deal than just moving. “Okay... why?”

Derek went back to the couch, reaching back into the laundry basket. “Because I needed to.”

Stiles took two steps into the room, but no more than that. He wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome. “To be fair, you’ve needed to move for a long time now.”

Derek didn’t look up. “I know. But it was time I moved-”

“Yeah, I got that part-”

“-on.”

“Wait, what?” Stiles asked. He nervously tucked his hands into his back pockets.

“I... needed to move on. From... the fire.”

Stiles resisted the urge to hug Derek because he didn’t want to be punched through a wall. “Oh.”

“You were right. I blame myself for what happened. How can I not, even a little bit? But I’m not the one who... who did it. And living there, punishing myself. That’s not going to bring them back.” He was clinging the to shirt in his hands. Stiles didn’t know what to say. He took another step toward Derek. “I know I’ve been... difficult.” Stiles snorted and Derek looked up to glare at him. “You were right, about what Peter said. He said I shouldn’t trust you, that if I let you in, someone else might get hurt.”

“Derek, you know I’d never-”

Derek held up his hand to stop Stiles. “I know. I knew that, then. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“You were worried about me getting hurt,” Stiles prompted.

Derek nodded. “You always have it figured out, don’t you?” he asked fondly. “I just didn’t want to take the chance of losing someone I cared about again.”

Another step. “ _Cared_ about?”

“ _Care_ about,” Derek corrected, looking almost shyly at Stiles. And wasn’t that a whole new expression for him?

“So you moved.”

“Yeah, I thought... a fresh start. Plus... the old house was no place to be taking my...”

“Your...?” Stiles urged.

Derek’s eyebrows raised, “Boyfriend?”

Stiles laughed. He couldn’t help himself, Derek was completely out of his element, no big, tough, alpha crap, just an awkward guy trying to ask Stiles to be his boyfriend. His laughing stopped when he saw the grumpy, embarrassed look on Derek’s face.

“You wanna be my boyfriend?”

“Not anymore,” Derek muttered.

“Yes you do,” Stiles insisted, walking casually over to the couch to stand in front of Derek. “You totally like me.”

“No I don’t,” Derek denied.

“Liar. You have it bad for me.”

“No,” Derek said, but couldn’t keep the corner of his lip from twitching up. “You have it bad for me. Were you stalking me or something? Is that how you found out I wasn’t at the old place?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open. “No! I was... I was just coming to tell you...”

“Tell me what?” Derek asked, dropping the shirt he’d been holding and gripping Stiles’ hips roughly.

“That you’re a jerk.” Derek leaned in, resting his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “And an idiot.” Derek snorted against Stiles’ neck.

“And why’s that?” Derek’s voice was muffled against Stiles’ skin.

“Because I’m awesome, and you’re lucky I like you at all.”

Derek lifted his head, one eyebrow sarcastically raised. Before Stiles could defend himself, Derek was licking into his mouth, crushing their lips together, kissing Stiles so hard he was dizzy. Maybe from the lack of air. Maybe not.

Maybe love made you lightheaded.


	10. You're Everything That a Big, Bad Wolf Could Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “That doesn’t mean we don’t have to do the time tested, traditional meeting of the parents.” Stiles must have looked horrified, because his dad chuckled as he headed for the door. “Don’t worry, doesn’t have to be formal, and it doesn’t have to be tonight. I’m off to work, try to be home before I am so I can pretend your virtue is still intact.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, finally, more PORN!

“Are you ready for your date?”

“It’s not a date!” Stiles said, burying his face in his hands.

Scott laughed. “Yes, it is. Derek’s picking you up, taking you to dinner. That’s a date, dude.”

“Fine. I have a date.”

“Whoa, hold on. This is, like, your first date ever, huh?”

Stiles blushed furiously. Sure, he hadn’t always been lucky with the ladies, or the gentlemen, but this wasn’t a big deal. “It’s not a big deal.”

Scott smiled happily at his best friend. “It IS a big deal. Are you gonna put out?”

Stiles spat his milk across the lunch table onto Isaac, who glared and wiped it off with great irritation. “Can we NOT talk about this? I won’t be able to keep my lunch down.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but said to Scott, “Yes, let’s NOT talk about Stiles’ date anymore, okay? But yes, I’m gonna put out.”

Isaac mimed vomiting all over the table, but Erica shoved him. “I think you should. Derek’s less cranky when he’s... taken care of.”

“Yeah, why are you holding out? You guys banged all the time before,” Jackson observed with his usual... lack of decorum.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Jackson, but things are... different now.” Stiles blushed harder. He thought his head might explode.

“Is this, like, some stupid virtue thing? Because Lydia tried that and only made it three dates-”

Jackson was silenced by Lydia’s elbow jabbing fiercely into his ribs. “I think it’s sweet,” she said.

It seemed that they weren’t going to stop discussing it, so Stiles tried his best to ignore them while he ate his lunch. The truth was, he was nervous. A little about the date, since he’d never been on one and wasn’t sure what to do. Mostly, though, because he decided tonight was the night he was going to ACTUALLY lose his virginity. To Derek. And he couldn’t tell if he was just excited, or anxious, or terrified.

Derek hadn’t been pressing him for anything, but Stiles could tell he wanted to. Stiles hadn’t told him to take it slow or anything. He guessed Derek was just trying to be a decent BOYFRIEND. Stiles still had a hard time wrapping his head around that. Stiles had wanted to practically climb Derek like a tree the night he had gone to his apartment, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He could play it cool.

Although, Derek must have known, could have sensed, smelled, what Stiles wanted. So why hadn’t he done anything about it? Maybe he was being chivalrous, which Stiles thought was pretty great. But he also remembered the Derek that got him off against a wall, and that had been amazing. He liked the aggression, especially when it was sexy and focused on him.

God, he hoped wolves didn’t lose their sex drive once they partnered up or whatever.

~

Stiles had been dressed and ready for his date for twenty minutes, and Derek wasn’t going to be there for over an hour. He paced his room, reviewed his outfit, and changed shirts. Three times. He was just changing his tie when his dad pushed his door open.

“Son.”

“Dad.” They stared at each other.

“What are you up to tonight?” His dad folded his arms across his chest.

“Nothing.”

His dad looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, dressed like that?”

“Okay, maybe... something?” His dad waited. “I’m going out.”

“Where?”

“To dinner.”

“With?”

Stiles was not going to get out of this. “Derek Hale?”

His dad pursed his lips and nodded. “So, it worked out then?”

“Yeah. You were... you were right, about... what was going on.”

His dad leaned against the door frame. “So. Are you seeing each other now?”

Stiles took a deep breath. “Yeah, I... guess you could say that.”

“Son,” his dad started, moving to sit on his bed. He patted the spot next to him and Stiles sat. “You know, you get up to a lot of stuff. Into trouble, one might even go as far as to say.” Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself but his dad pushed through. “And sometimes I worry. Because I want what’s best for you, I don’t want you getting hurt. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, but Dad-”

“But. But I trust you. I trust that you’re smart enough to make good choices. And even though I know you’ll probably still get into trouble from time to time, I know that you do what you think is right. You’re just like your mom that way.”

Stiles stared at his dad, willing the overwhelming emotions that were creeping up away. “Thanks Dad.”

His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “That doesn’t mean we don’t have to do the time tested, traditional meeting of the parents.” Stiles must have looked horrified, because his dad chuckled as he headed for the door. “Don’t worry, doesn’t have to be formal, and it doesn’t have to be tonight. I’m off to work, try to be home before I am so I can pretend your virtue is still intact.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped, but his dad never turned back to see it.

~

Stiles was honestly not sure if Derek would ring the doorbell or come in through his window. He suspected doorbell, but for some reason, hoped window. Window made it like old times, less formal, less... date like. 

He actually cringed when the doorbell rang. He stood in front of the door for a minute before opening it, trying to master his nerves.

“Stiles, I can hear you breathing,” Derek said from the other side. And of course he could. Of course. Stiles grimaced and opened the door. Derek looked amazing, as usual. Black jeans, black t-shirt, leather jacket.

Shit. Stiles was way, WAY overdressed. “I’m gonna go change,” he mumbled, but Derek caught him by the wrist and pulled him closer.

“Don’t. You look amazing.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the flush across his cheeks. “No, c’mon, I’m going to look-” Stiles lost his train of thought, because Derek was pressing his face against Stiles’ neck, kissing his pulse point. Which must have been thundering under his lips.

“You’re nervous.”

“No,” Stiles quickly said. “Okay, fine. Yanno, it’s not fair you can lie to me and I can’t lie to you.”

“I won’t lie to you.” Derek pulled away to look him in the eyes.

Stiles squinted, searching for a tell. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes,” Derek said without hesitation. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.”

“Well, it’s been since my past lives or whatever for me, so...”

“I’m your first date?” Derek asked, a small smile playing on his face.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay? It’s not a big deal. Why does everyone think-”

Derek kissed him, softly at first, then faster, more demanding. He pressed Stiles to the wall of the hallway, and at least this was familiar territory. Stiles jolted when Derek cupped his erection, and seriously, when had that happened?

“Aren’t you supposed to wait until after the date for this? I mean, I’m not an expert...” Stiles asked while Derek lightly bit his way up Stiles’ neck.

“I thought it might help with your nerves,” Derek hummed against Stiles’ jaw line. “But I don’t have to.”

“Well, you kind of do now, otherwise you’re just being a tease.” Stiles gasped as Derek worked his leg between Stiles’ thighs. “Although I’m going to have to insist that clothes come off, because I’m planning on wearing this to dinner. Turns out my boyfriend thinks it’s kind of a hot look for me.”

“Does he?” Derek asked, loosening Stiles’ tie enough to pull it over his head. He started plucking open the buttons of Stiles’ shirt, eyes locked on Stiles’ face.

“Yeah. Although I have it on good authority he likes me in anything.”

Derek peeled off the shirt, setting it carefully on the table by the door. He bit slowly across Stiles’ chest, stopping to tease at his nipples, sucking them into hard points, Derek rubbed a thumb over Stiles’ right one while he sucked on his collar bone. He opened the buckle of Stiles’ belt, tugging the zipper and button of his slacks until they dropped to the floor. “I have it on good authority he likes you in nothing at all,” he mumbled against Stiles’ skin.

“Jesus Derek, are you kidding me? You’re too hot to be saying things like that to _me_.”

“Shut up,” Derek warned him, stroking him through his underwear. Stiles gasped, pressing into the touch, letting his eyes close. Derek lapped at the spot he’d been sucking on, pushing his hand under the elastic of Stiles’ boxers. His fingers traced lightly over Stiles’ skin, smearing the pre come down his shaft, and then he made a loose fist on the way back up. Stiles tried not to buck into him, and realized he has a death grip on Derek’s biceps.

Derek’s mouth crushed against his, his tongue dipping into Stiles’ mouth. They were both panting, but neither would stop pressing against the other’s mouth. Stiles lifted onto his toes, trying to get a better angle from Derek’s hand, but Derek moved away.

“Wait, wait, what the hell? You can _not_... seriously... Derek, that is not-” Stiles was silenced quickly when Derek dropped to his knees. He pulled Stiles’ boxers down, everything bunched around his ankles. Derek grabbed the base of Stiles’ cock and licked over the head. “You taste so good. It’s kind of overwhelming.”

Stiles tried having thoughts, forming words. “Wait, what?”

“You taste,” Derek repeated, giving Stiles’ dick another long swipe with his tongue, “amazing. I don’t know if you can understand... it’s different for wolves.” Stiles nodded, because okay, whatever, just continue that, thank you very much. Derek wrapped his mouth around Stiles, sucking the head and then working lower until his lips met his fist. Then he pulled off. Stiles made a needy, whiney sound and Derek chuckled. “I wonder if this is what being drunk is like.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never been drunk. Can’t. But I wonder if this is what it feels like. It makes me feel lightheaded. It makes things fuzzy, and slow, but intense.”

“Wait, what does?”

“You, you idiot,” Derek smirked. Stiles hissed when Derek sucked him again, bucked his hips forward. Derek let him, gripped Stiles’ ass and pulled him deeper.

“Oh god,” Stiles moaned. Derek swirled his tongue around Stiles, licked at the slit, and bobbed his head. It had been a while since they’d done anything, what with everything that had happened, and Stiles felt like he had a hair trigger. Part of him wanted to tell Derek to slow down, so maybe he could try not embarrassing himself for once. The teenaged boy in him didn’t like that plan, and apparently overruled any objections from his dignity. “Derek, Derek jesus please I wanna come so badly please I’m sorry can you just come on please.”

Derek’s eyes flicked up to Stiles’ and Stiles had to brace his hands on Derek’s shoulders because he was coming so hard, fuck yes, yes, yes, and he was saying that all out loud, shouting and gasping and Derek was just drinking him down.

Stiles made an audible “AH” sound when Derek pulled away, wiping his shiny red lips on the back of his hand. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Is this what all dates are like? I’ve been missing out,” Stiles panted, and Derek laughed. A genuine, full laugh, which made Stiles smirk with pride. Derek pulled up Stiles’ boxers and pants, fixing them into place, then he held out Stiles’ shirt for him. Stiles obliged by shrugging it onto his shoulders and letting Derek do up the buttons. He stopped with two to go, eyeing Stiles’ collarbone.

“I think you should wear it like this. No tie.” Stiles lifted an eyebrow. “I like the view. Plus, you look disheveled.”

Was that a blush Stiles detected? He smiled. “Okay.” He tucked his shirt in and Derek turned for the door. “Wait, what about... you?”

“I’m good,” Derek said. Stiles looked pointedly at the tent in Derek’s jeans and raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be fine, Stiles. I’m not as young as you, I wanna be able to keep up with you later.”

“Oh, you just assume I’m putting out?” Stiles teased, mock offended.

“You better if you want me paying for your dinner,” Derek shot back, tossing Stiles’ jacket at his head. Stiles caught it and slipped it on, following Derek through the front door.

“Maybe we’ll just go dutch,” Stiles threatened.

“Maybe I’ll just eat you for dinner.”

Stiles paused while he locked the door behind them. “I can’t tell if I feel intimidated or turned on.”

~

The place Derek took Stiles wasn’t overly fancy, but it was a nice butcher shop that did amazing meals and was popular with the locals. Stiles hardly ever went in there because he was a poor high school student and it was more of a college scene. Derek fit in perfectly, of course. Stiles felt like his younger brother, which he told Derek.

Derek scrunched his nose. “You do not.”

“Oh come on. I can hardly grow facial hair. I probably look like I’m twelve.”

“Then I look like a pedophile, is that what you’re saying?”

“Like anyone thinks we’re together. I mean, you and me? You’re way out of my league and - ow!” Stiles yelped, because Derek had kicked him under the table. “Not helping with the younger brother thing.”

“No one thinks that.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you have a huge hickey on your collar bone and I can feel their insane jealousy.” Derek smirked.

Stiles clapped a hand over the spot Derek’s mouth had been. “You did that on purpose.”

Derek shrugged. “I just want people to know.”

“And their jealous of me, dumbass, being here with you.”

“Not her, her, him, her, and her,” Derek said, nodding his head at each person as he listed them off. Stiles discreetly peered around and smiled proudly. “When are you going to believe me?”

“Huh?”

“Just because none of the idiots at your high school have shown any interest, doesn’t mean it’s not there.” Derek unfolded his napkin into his lap. “Now order something expensive, eat fast, and let me take you home.”

Stiles laughed. It was easier than he thought; dating wasn’t so hard. Even dating _Derek_ wasn’t so hard, because Derek was being nice and friendly and like a normal human. And Stiles couldn’t help but think maybe he had something to do with that.


	11. Second Chance at a First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So are you going to tell me?”
> 
> Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what?” They were almost to Derek’s apartment.
> 
> “When it was you decided you actually LIKED me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am secretly (or not so secretly) sad that this story is finally done. ;____; Don't be surprised if I decide to write another fic in this universe. I think I'm going to miss it. I almost just called this chapter "Derek Feels" because basically I have problems. Also, there's sex. Also, I made this title up from the Teen Wolf Ep Second Chance at First Line and Dylan's movie The First Time. Because, like, this is sort of Derek's first time redemption after horrid Kate. So.
> 
> Ahem, without further ado...
> 
> And thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has read this, commented, and left kudos. You're amazing, as is the support. :)

Stiles bounced his leg quickly in the passenger seat of the Camero, simultaneously chewing on one of his cuticles. When he glanced up, Derek was peering at him from the driver’s seat. “You still... nervous? The date’s over, so...”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not every day you lose your virginity, so,” Stiles said too loudly. Derek’s eyes grew wide and yeah, okay, so maybe Stiles had been the only one aware of that part of the nightly agenda.

“Stiles... we don’t HAVE to, if you’re not ready-”

“I’m ready. I am so ready. Beyond ready, maybe even. And I’m not nervous. Anxious, maybe.”

Derek chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re still a virgin.”

“ _I_ can’t believe you can’t believe it. Believe me, if I’d had the opportunity, I wouldn’t be. It’s just... you know, no one at school thinks about me like that.”

“I wanted you from the first second I saw you,” Derek admitted, smiling slightly. 

Stiles turned to stare at him, finger still at his mouth. “Really? That day in... the Preserve?”

“When you and Scott were looking for his inhaler.”

Stiles looked completely exasperated. “Why didn’t you - I mean, you MUST have known I thought you were hot, with the wolfy senses and what not. I thought you HATED me.”

Derek looked at him briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “I never hated you. I thought I could keep you away, ignore what I wanted, and it would make it easier.”

“Did it?”

“It seems like you were pretty unavoidable. We kept getting thrown together and it made it a lot harder for me. Especially because, yeah, I could tell you were attracted to me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t _like_ you very much.”

Derek shrugged. “That was the point. So when did you decide you _did_ like me?”

Stiles felt his cheeks flush. “The night we were trapped in the pool.” Derek looked a little shocked. “I mean, I wouldn’t have let you drown, whether or not I liked you. But... right before Scott got there, I really started to worry I wouldn’t be able to keep going. I was scared I might have to let you go. And I really, _really_ didn’t want to do that.”

Derek nodded. “So you knew you liked me?”

“Well, I don’t know if I really _liked_ you, but enough not to let you die.” Stiles grinned. “Anyway, that night after I got home... I had a dream about you.”

Derek was intrigued. “What kind of dream?”

“The uh... the kind where I woke up sticky,” Stiles admitted. 

Derek accidentally jerked the wheel, both of them jostled in their seats. “Jesus, Stiles. Do you have any idea what saying shit like that _does_ to me?”

Stiles turned in his seat to better face Derek. “I was beginning to wonder if it did anything, since you haven’t really been making moves on me lately.”

Derek sighed. “I’ve been trying to be patient. Let you do things on your terms. I know I can be... demanding.”

“That’s one of the things that makes me want you, dumbass,” Stiles reprimanded. “But thanks, I guess. For trying to be a decent guy.”

“If I were a decent guy, I’d have waited until you were 18 to do ANY of this.”

“I’ll remind you, I started it. Sort of... against your will.”

“So are you going to tell me?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what?” They were almost to Derek’s apartment.

“When it was you decided you actually LIKED me.”

“It was after the rave.”

Derek pulled into a parking space, stopping the car. “The rave?”

“When you saved Scott. I know you said it was because you were the alpha and it was your job, but. I knew it was more than that. That you cared about him. I know you stayed that whole night with him and Deaton at the clinic.”

Derek was silent, looking down at the steering wheel. Stiles knew how freaked out he was that night. And now, knowing what had happened with Mrs. Argent, he knew how much that night had cost Derek.

“You were like Han Solo at the end of Star Wars that night. I’d always thought you were selfish and manipulative. But what you did that night wasn’t for you. And then I thought back to all the other times, were you’d stepped in, and helped. That’s when I knew, even if you tried to pretend you didn’t care, that you did.” Stiles placed a hand on Derek’s thigh, and Derek covered it with his own.

“I’m... going to say something. And I don’t want you to say anything back, okay?”

Stiles looked skeptical. “You HAVE met me... you know how hard it is for me not to-”

“I know, I just... I just want to say it, and not have you feel like there’s something you have to say.” Stiles furrowed his brow, but nodded. Derek squeezed his hand, staring down at where they were intertwined. “I think... I’m falling in love with you.”

His eyes flicked up to Stiles shyly, and Stiles opened his mouth, but remembered he wasn’t supposed to say anything. He let his jaw hang for a few seconds, struggling with silence, then snapped it shut.

“I just wanted you to know, but I don’t want you to feel obligated-”

“I’m _totally_ in love with you,” Stiles blurted, looking pained as he did, knowing he was supposed to keep his damn mouth shut. “I have been for a while, but I didn’t want to freak you out, so I didn’t say anything, but I am like head over heels over here, because apparently I’m a hopeless romantic or something, but you shouldn’t feel-”

Derek practically pounced on him, crushing him against the car door while he kissed him frantically. The initial shock wore off quickly and Stiles kissed hungrily back, grabbing Derek’s jacket and pulling him closer.

They made out in the car for a solid ten minutes before Derek pulled back to gasp for breath. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Stiles nodded, fumbling for the door handle and almost toppling out of the car when he opened it. Derek gracefully slipped out his side while Stiles struggled to right himself, and they walked quickly, hand in hand, to the apartment building.

Derek smiled and nodded to the door man, who looked suspiciously at Stiles. He must have remembered him from the other night, or at least associated him with trouble. Stiles smiled smugly; ha, he DID have a friend in the building. Derek led them to the elevator and they waited impatiently for it. 

The doors opened and they rushed inside, Derek pressing the fifth floor button and then repeatedly stabbing the “door closed” one. Stiles was about to mount Derek right there in the elevator when an arm shot through the closing space, forcing the doors open. An older woman smiled sweetly as she entered, and she pressed the 3rd floor button. Stiles gave her a strained grin as she looked back and forth between them and he forced his back against the wall, trying to keep his hands to himself.

They reached the third floor and the woman left, still giving them an uneasy look. The second the doors shut behind her, Derek was pressing between Stiles’ thighs, forcing him farther back against the wall. He grabbed Stiles by the hips and lifted him a little, moving forward to take Stiles’ weight on his pelvis. Stiles hooked his heels behind Derek’s calves, moaning when Derek rocked into him. Derek licked his way into Stiles’ mouth, grinding against him, and yeah, that felt fucking awesome. The “ding” that signaled they were at their floor was almost unwelcome, as they had to pry themselves apart and make their way to the apartment. 

Derek was practically dragging Stiles behind him as he strode quickly down the hall. He unlocked the door and pushed Stiles inside first, closing them in after he was inside. He was stalking toward Stiles, and Stiles _felt_ like prey. If this had been Derek four months ago, he would have been scared. Maybe instinctually, he moved back as Derek approached, until he bumped into the kitchen counter.

Derek hadn’t bothered with the lights, so the room was dark, highlighted by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. Stiles’ eyes were still adjusting, and he gripped the surface behind him to steady himself. Derek was in his space again, crushing his lips over Stiles’ mouth, his tongue working in over Stiles’ teeth. Derek shoved Stiles’ jacket off his shoulders to the floor, but was gentle with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked away at them while kissing down Stiles’ neck, licking over the mark he’d already left there, ducking his head to trap a nipple between his teeth.

Stiles hissed, his hands digging into Derek’s hips, pulling them together. He moved against Derek, friction between their groins, both of them hard. He fought to rid Derek of his jacket and Derek obliged, pulling away to tug his shirt over his head too. Stiles watched the arch of his back, the stretch of lean muscles. When Derek crowded back in, Stiles ran his fingers down Derek’s chest, over his nipples, down, following the line of his hips to where it disappeared into his jeans.

Stiles opened Derek’s fly and shoved his pants down his thighs. He dropped to his knees, leaning in to kiss the cut muscle he had been touching seconds ago, licking the line of dark hair from Derek’s belly button to the elastic of his underwear. Derek cradled Stiles’ head, rubbing his thumb over the short, buzzed hair. Stiles’ chin bumped Derek’s erection and he moaned, fingernails scratching Stiles’ scalp. Stiles ran his hands up the back of Derek’s thighs and mouthed his dick through his boxer briefs, breathing hot, moist air. Derek whined, fingers tightening on Stiles’ shoulders where he was braced for support.

“Bedroom... please, Stiles...” Derek panted. Stiles pressed up to his feet, nodding quickly. Derek toed out of his shoes and kicked off his pants, pushing past Stiles down the hall. Stiles followed, his stomach doing kick turns in his body. This was it; he was about to lose his virginity. To the hottest guy he’d ever seen. How had this even happened?

Derek grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bedroom. It was nice; in fact, the whole apartment was really nice. Everything was new, and all the furniture was big and solid. Expensive. There were even decorative pillows, which was bizarre. Maybe Derek had hired an interior decorator? He couldn’t imagine Derek picking out THROW PILLOWS.

“Um... are you rich?” Stiles asked, looking around the room. Derek ducked his head. “Sorry, that was... extremely rude, I can’t... I’m so-”

“Yeah,” Derek answered, catching Stiles’ eye. “Family life insurance policies. Plus, insurance on the old place, so... I don’t have to worry much.”

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

“If I wasn’t able to take abrupt, invasive questions, I wouldn’t be dating you, Stiles,” Derek teased. He settled on the bed, looking like he fell right out of a magazine. “Now would you mind getting your ass into this bed with me?”

Stiles let out nervous laughter, but tried to steady himself. He stepped up to the bed but Derek stopped him before he knelt on the mattress. “Might as well lose the clothes first.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Derek’s underwear. Derek lifted his hips, arching off the bed, and pulled them off. And jesus - JESUS - did Stiles have the hottest boyfriend ever or what? Knowing his own strip tease would be awkward and completely unsexy, he undressed quickly, like you would for the doctor.

Derek was silently laughing at him when he looked up, and Stiles stopped with his thumbs hooked in his boxers. “What?”

Derek shook his head. “Nothing. Just, you. You’re about as coordinated as a baby giraffe.”

Stiles glared. “This baby giraffe doesn’t put out for people who laugh at him when he’s already kinda freaking out because it’s his first time and it’s with a freakin’ sex god.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m not a sex god.”

“And I’m not a baby giraffe,” Stiles said stubbornly.

“Please come here,” Derek tried. Stiles narrowed his eyes but didn’t move. “Stiles, please?”

Stiles pulled his hands away from his underwear, crossing his arms over his chest and still glaring. He wasn’t going to fall for Derek’s puppy dog eyes, not when his manhood had been insulted. He tried to avert his gaze when Derek slid his hand down his own chest, lower, lower, until he was slowly stroking himself.

Derek’s eyes were locked on Stiles, his breathing heavy, his fist twisting over his cock. “Please,” he asked again.

And okay, fine. Stiles could only hold out so long. He could have held out longer, but his dick was calling the shots now, and it was not going to allow him to spend another minute not in bed with Derek. He shucked his boxers as gracefully as he could, which was not really sexy but sort of pathetically eager, and slid up next to Derek, pressing his chest to Derek’s side. His hand followed the length of Derek’s arm down, and he covered Derek’s fingers with his. Derek pulled away, letting Stiles grip his cock.

Derek rolled onto his side a bit, giving Stiles better access and also giving himself room to reach for Stiles, to mimic Stiles’ movements on Stiles’ hard on. Stiles tried to keep his rhythm steady, but kept getting distracted by the hitching of Derek’s breath, or the almost silent gasps of pleasure. Derek bumped his nose against Stiles’, lifting his head from where he was staring down at Derek’s hand on him, moving him so he could kiss his mouth.

It was slow, and almost lazy, and it was perfect. There was no rush, no chance this might all come crashing down, because Derek was _in love with him_. He wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t going to push Stiles away. They had all the time in the world, and the anxiousness that had been on at least a low thrum in Stiles all night dissipated. This was sexy and awesome and comfortable and Stiles, for once, felt in control of his body. Felt like this wasn’t going to be over too soon, like he might not spoil it with his inexperience.

Derek was the one who pulled away, panting and shaking a little. He rested his forehead against Stiles’, looking steadily at him. “Did you... still want to?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. Like, yeah times a million. I mean, if you want to-”

“I’ve wanted to forever, haven’t you been listening?” Derek teased.

Stiles kissed him again, hard and excited, their teeth clacking together a little and Derek’s stubble scraping over Stiles’ upper lip and chin. Derek broke the kiss to roll over, digging through the top drawer of his bedside table. He returned with a bottle of lube and a condom. “I can use this, if you want. Werewolves can’t get, yanno, STDs or whatever, but if you’d be more comfortable-”

Stiles ripped the condom out of Derek’s hand and tossed it over his shoulder, but then lay there blinking wide eyed at Derek. “I’m... not sure what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

Derek smiled, something that was a mix between fondness and complete disbelief. He rolled Stiles onto his back, scooting close to him, and nudged Stiles’ thighs apart. “Bend your knees, put your feet flat on the bed,” Derek instructed. Stiles nodded rapidly, trying to keep his breathing steady. He watched as Derek opened the lube, coating his fingers. Derek palmed Stiles’ cock first, slicking over it, making Stiles moan and push up into his grip. He ghosted his fingertips over Stiles’ balls, then back, the pad of one finger lightly tracing over his opening.

“This okay?” Derek asked, his voice low, almost too deep to hear.

“Yeah. You can... I mean, I’ve been...” Stiles tried, too embarrassed to outright say anything. Because yeah, ever since that time in the shower, he hadn’t jerked off _without_ sliding a finger inside. He’d had Derek’s words burnt into his brain: _”You need to get used to this, first. I don’t want to hurt you. You’ll need to be worked open for me.”_

“Yeah?” Derek purred into the shell of Stiles’ ear. He sounded impressed, he sounded turned on. “You do this when you touch yourself?” Derek asked, pushing the first finger inside.

Stiles’ body clenched instinctively and his whole body tensed, his cock bobbing obscenely against his belly. “Yeah. Every time.”

Derek let out a shuddering breath against Stiles’ neck. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he whispered. Derek was easily fucking Stiles with one finger, pressing the second in beside it. “God, Stiles. You’re fucking open for me.”

Stiles thrust down against Derek’s hand, moaning. “I don’t just use my fingers,” Stiles started, licking his lips, monitoring Derek’s reactions. “I bought something... something bigger. I wanted to be ready for you.”

“Fuck,” Derek cursed, rocking his cock against Stiles’ hip like he couldn’t help himself.

“It feels fucking good, Derek. I have a hard time with the angle, when I’m alone. Sometimes though... sometimes I can reach that spot-”

“Jesus-”

“-and I come so hard I get lightheaded. I almost passed out once, and I came so much. I’d never come so much in my life-”

“Fuck, Stiles-”

“I want you to touch me there. I want you to fuck me, I want to come so hard when you’re fucking me...”

Derek practically growled, curving his fingers and working over that spot, pulling away just enough to add another finger, then back in.

“Fuck, fuck, right there, god dammit Derek,” Stiles sobbed.

“Jesus, Stiles, I can’t believe you took three-”

“Fuck me. Do it now, Derek. Do it, please, I need it, I need you to fuck me,” Stiles interrupted, actually begging, his voice broken and torn from his throat. Derek moved lightening fast as he pulled his fingers away, frantically grabbing for the lube. His hands were shaking as he slicked himself, and he knelt between Stiles’ spread thighs.

“You’re sure you’re ready?”

Stiles didn’t answer, just reached down, finding Derek’s cock, pressing it against himself. Derek paused again and Stiles whined in frustration, grabbing Derek’s ass and yanking him forward.

He slid in easily but Stiles still hissed. Derek’s dick was big, bigger than what Stiles had sneakily bought from the adult store in the next town over, bigger than Stiles had thought. He felt the burn and the stretch but he kept breathing through it, relaxing slowly. He tried to move under Derek.

“Fucking move, Derek. I’m fine, it’s fine, come on!” he demanded, but Derek didn’t. That’s when he noticed the stutter in Derek’s breath, the clench of his muscles.

“Just... fuck. Give me a second,” Derek ground out, his face flushing. Because he was about to lose it, he was close to coming, he was the one who was too riled up.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Stiles whispered, moving to kiss Derek, to fuck his way into Derek’s mouth with his tongue. Derek whimpered against his lips, kissing back clumsily.

“I’m sorry,” Derek huffed out. “It’s just been a while since... I’ve actually had sex with anyone, and I just want it to be good for you.”

The obvious shame was crushing Stiles’ chest, and he wondered if Kate was the only person Derek had been with. His first time. He wondered if she had laughed at him for his eagerness. If she wasn’t already dead, Stiles would have killed her. The damage she’d inflicted on Derek, who’d been just a kid. She’d left him broken, left a trail of ash in her wake, and now Derek was shaking with the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy she must have drilled into him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Stiles said quietly, stroking his thumb over Derek’s shoulder blade. “This is already fucking amazing. You have to know that. No one has ever made me feel as fucking good as you do. I’ve never wanted anything like I want this.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeated. 

Stiles nudged Derek’s chin with his knuckles until he looked into his eyes. “I can wait.”

Derek leaned in and kissed him, a soft press of his lips, and then he rocked gently down into Stiles. Stiles gasped and lifted his hips, wrapping his legs around Derek.

“I might have to... slow down, or-”

“No,” Stiles scolded. “Don’t fucking apologize to me. You may think this is embarrassing, but the fact that you’re all... excited, or whatever? Is hot as fuck. And if I wasn’t so greedy, I’d make you come right now, I swear to god, but I’m not very altruistic, so I’m all about whatever needs to happen here so I can come, because I really, _really_ want to do that with you.”

Derek groaned, and the once timid movement of his hips suddenly became forceful, demanding. His thrusts grew sharp with the snaps of his hips and he bit his way down Stiles’ throat to his collar bone. The friction was enough to drive Stiles crazy, but Derek pushed up to his knees, hitching Stiles’ legs on his shoulders to press deeper, angling his hips and-

“Fuck, god yeah, that’s... that’s it right fucking there, fucking god,” Stiles cried out. Derek pounded against him, apparently finding the anchor he needed to stay in control, because he was ruthless now, his pelvis cracking against Stiles’ ass, his fingers digging into Stiles’ thighs. He tilted Stiles back farther, shallowly burying himself deeper, hitting against that fucking spot that made Stiles shake. Stiles reached for his cock, but just like in the shower, Derek smacked his hand away.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, and Stiles moaned loudly when Derek leaned in, folding Stiles near in half, slowing his pace deliberately. The drag was excruciating, and Derek pulled almost all the way out before sliding back in, repeatedly, making Stiles writhe under him.

“I wanna come,” Stiles begged, his voice cracking a little.

“You will,” Derek sneered.

“I wanna come now,” Stiles whined, trying to move, trying to pick up the pace.

“Be patient,” Derek said. 

Stiles wriggled under his weight, but Derek kept everything slow, torturous. “How about now?” Stiles tried.

Derek laughed - actually fucking laughed, while his cock was all the way in, the fucking jerk - but placated Stiles with one sharp, deep thrust, slamming right into Stiles’ prostate.

“You tease you fucking tease you are so fucking dead I can’t believe-” Stiles was cut off by Derek shifting forward, catching Stiles’ knees in the crook of his elbows, and moving his hips quickly, precisely. Stiles couldn’t seem to stop his chant of “oh oh oh” as Derek fucked him, gritting his teeth and really fucking pounding into him, and Stiles’ dick was leaking pre come all over his belly.

“Fuck, Stiles, I’m so fucking close, please tell me you’re-”

“Shut up, shut the hell up and fucking touch me, you asshole, you are such a fucking - fuck!” Stiles shouted as Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, trying to pump his fist in time with his hips, his rhythm failing miserably, but Stiles didn’t care, didn’t fucking care, “I’m going to come so hard jesus fuck don’t you dare fucking stop don’t you dare oh shit oh shit Derek fuck!” Stiles yelled. He was coming, coming so hard his vision got a little spotty and he felt everything in him clench and he was covering himself in come. He looked down, down past his chest and belly that were slick everywhere with come, and his dick was still pulsing weakly in Derek’s grip, still dribbling and slicking the way.

Derek was moving so fast, pushing so deep, gasping for air. “Oh my god, oh my god, you little bastard, that was so fucking hot,” he growled, his whole body shaking and faltering as he pushed closer to release.

“I want you to come in me,” Stiles whispered, and Derek looked right into his eyes and cried out, trembled, tried to push impossibly deeper. Stiles could feel him exploding, coming hot and wet into his body, and he grabbed Derek’s ass to pull him tighter against his hips, rocking into the stillness of Derek’s orgasm.

They were drenched in sweat and Derek collapsed onto him, making everything wetter and stickier. Both of them were gasping, trying to catch their breath, and Derek pulled out but not away.

“You are fucking ridiculous,” Stiles panted.

Derek forced out a raw chuckle. “And you swear like a sailor when you’re getting fucked, did you know that?”

“First time, how could I?” Stiles asked. He grinned widely at Derek, who had propped himself up on Stiles’ chest to look at him. “That was seriously... I thought I was gonna pass out.”

Derek looked a little smug. “Yeah?”

“Best first time ever,” Stiles declared, laughing a little deliriously. He raised his hand up. “High five for awesome sex?”

Derek snorted, but high fived him anyway. He kept his hand against Stiles’, lacing their fingers together. “You’re awfully sticky.”

Stiles glared, then rolled Derek off of him. He sat up, taking inventory of the mess they’d made. “Fair point. But so are you.” Stiles got out of bed, thinking he should probably clean up a little. Derek reached out and swatted his ass, hard enough it would probably leave a mark behind. “Hey!”

“Hit the showers, Stilinski,” Derek smirked.

“I might need someone to wash my back...” Stiles said suggestively.

“I’m an old man, you know. I don’t know if I’ll be ready for round two quite yet.”

Stiles shrugged easily. “I don’t have to be home for another five hours. Besides, you did such a good job last time...”

Derek looked Stiles up and down, his eyelids heavy. Stiles went into the bathroom, turning on the shower spray and stepping in.

In less than a minute, Derek was getting in behind him.

~

“So.”

“So,” Stiles repeated.

“Do you feel different?”

Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott. “Dude, you’ve already lost your virginity, why are you asking me this?”

Scott shrugged, grinning. “I’m just proud of you, dude. You tamed the beast.”

Derek glared at both of them. “I’m right here, you idiots. I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“So can we,” complained Boyd from his spot on the couch. Pack meetings had vastly improved since they were having them at Derek’s swanky apartment. Stiles was fairly sure the door man thought Derek was hosting some kinky, underage orgy.

“I personally think it helps his ADD,” Erica teased. “He’s less high strung when he’s been well-laid.”

“Erica!” Derek warned, but she ignored him completely. 

“Mom, Daddy’s yelling again,” she pouted to Stiles.

“I am NOT den mother,” Stiles protested. 

This got a smirk out of Derek, though. “Hey honey, would you mind making us a snack?” Stiles glared at him.

“Holy shit, he even has a sense of humor. It must be sexually transmitted” Jackson said. Derek offered him a look of pure disdain. Stiles matched it. “And apparently brooding is, too,” he muttered.

“Can we get on with this meeting, please?” Derek begged to the heavens. When no one objected, he turned to Stiles. “But seriously, a snack would be great.”

He must have been too sated for quick reflexes, because the pillow Stiles threw actually bounced off his head. He looked murderous and Stiles grumbled, getting off the couch. “I’ll make some sandwiches,” he muttered.

“Cut off the crusts!” Scott and Allison chimed in unison.

~

Stiles was cleaning up Derek’s kitchen after the meeting was over, and he was surprisingly okay with that. Derek came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Thanks for doing that.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Derek turned him so they could face each other, resting his hands on Stiles’ hips. “I know the pack mom thing is kind of a joke, but the pack is stronger with two leaders.”

“Me? Lead? Uh, Derek, I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m just a puny human and - wait, you’re not trying to, like, turn me, are you?”

“Stiles-”

“Because it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. I mean, that time Peter offered-”

“Peter what?” Derek growled, eyes flashing a little.

“Hey, whoa, water under the bridge. It was before his big comeback, so, whatever, I said no, but-”

“I don’t want to turn you. Unless that’s what you want.”

“No, no. I’m good at being human.”

Derek was silent for a moment. “You’d be in less danger.”

“Hello, wolf entourage for back up, I’m super good. Plus, jealous boyfriend who practically stalks me, so-”

“I was just checking on you-”

“You were looming outside my window. It was like the creepiest version of Say Anything ever.”

“You’re dad won’t let you stay over.”

“You’re lucky he’s letting me date you,” Stiles pointed out, going back to his dishes.

Derek sighed. “Anyway, the point I was trying to make what feels like a million years ago is... you should be-”

“If you say your mate, I’m going to punch you in the throat,” Stiles interjected. Derek didn’t continue and Stiles whipped around. “Holy shit, you were gonna say mate!”

Derek looked horribly awkward, like Stiles had dealt him the biggest insult of his entire life. “Forget it.”

“Oh, I certainly will not! That’s an actual thing? Like, are you proposing mate-ness to me, or something?”

“I said forget it,” Derek muttered, walking into the living room to properly sulk on the couch. 

Stiles jumped the back of it and landed gracelessly beside him. “I’m in.”

“What?”

Stiles laughed at Derek’s wide eyes, so wide his eyebrows were threatening to join forces with his hairline. “I’m in. Sign me up, or. Does this involve some sort of ritual? Like-”

“No, Stiles. It’s just... by declaring you’re my...”

“Mate,” Stiles supplied cheekily.

Derek rolled his eyes, “Why am I even asking you-”

“Because you’ve been witness to my utter awesome. Please continue.”

Derek sighed heavily. “By declaring you’re my mate, it makes the pack stronger. It might even bring you some protection, I don’t know. But it would be good. For the pack.”

“And for you?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah. And not just... for practical reasons. It’ll be good for me because... I want you. I want you to be mine. And I know you don’t like that possessive bullshit because you’re your own person and-”

Stiles kissed him, kissed him until he looked disoriented and drugged. “I accept.”

“Stiles, you can have some time to think this over.”

“Nope, I’m good.” He leapt over the back of the couch again, returning to the sudsy sink.

“You’re totally sure?” Derek asked.

“Totally. I’m your mate now. Ha, mate. It’s kinda pirate-y. Like, arr, matey. Or like, g’day, mate!”

“I’m regretting this already,” Derek groaned.

“No, you’re not,” Stiles said smugly, turning to face the living room, leaning against the counter. “So, ya know what I was thinking?”

“Is it telling that I’m afraid to ask?”

Stiles went ahead as if Derek hadn’t spoken. “I think we should probably make this official.”

“Huh?”

“You know... consummate the event...” Stiles waggled his eyebrows. 

And even though Derek rolled his eyes, he practically chased Stiles into the bedroom before tackling him to the bed, and any words of protest were soon drowned out by laughter.

And Stiles decided that Derek’s laugh would always be his favorite thing.


End file.
